The God-Bothered
by PinkFreud
Summary: Sequel to 'Good Neighbors'. Just as Loki and Darcy are settling into their new life together, SHIELD asks them to take on an assignment that turns out to be much more than it appears.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, old friends and new! Welcome back to my weird mind-palace. Just to go over a few things: if you haven't read ''Good Neighbors'' yet, then you should probably do that first, or this story really won't make a lot of sense, sorry. This one starts off approximately 8 months after GN ended. Ok, here we go again...**

* * *

><p><em>What we call the beginning is often the end<em>

_And to make an end is to make a beginning_

_The end is where we start from_

** -T.S. Eliot**

**Stark Tower**

Tony Stark collected artwork, among other things. He enjoyed the feeling of owning something that another person had spent so much time pouring energy and emotion into. Some of the paintings and sculptures that he owned were fonder to him than others, though, and it was always nice to add a new piece to his collection. Today, he was about to show off a painting that had recently been shipped to him from Paris, and he had invited his colleagues from SHIELD—with the exception of Nick Fury, who could sometimes be a bit of a buzzkill about things, in Tony's opinion.

The billionaire pulled off the curtain to reveal his newest acquisition. There was dead silence in the room for a moment, then the sound of Jane Foster's wine glass shattering on the floor. Tony smiled proudly, ignoring this. ''Isn't it fantastic?''

Thor nodded. ''It's very good,'' he admitted.

''The translation of the title is 'Naked Woman With Dagger.' ''

''That's definitely accurate,'' said Natasha with a nod. The large oil painting was indeed of a beautiful, naked woman lying sideways on a bed. In her hand she held a long knife with an intricate handle.

''Her...face is familiar,'' noted Steve Rogers. ''Very good,'' said Stark, trying to contain his earsplitting grin.

Jane groaned. ''Mr. Stark, this is just...inappropriate.'' Tony heaved a sigh. ''Does _nobody_ appreciate good art anymore?''

''I like art,'' the scientist insisted. ''Just not when the subject is a close friend of mine.''

''Hey, she's a friend of mine too. So is the artist.''

''God, I hope there's not like a dozen nude paintings of her floating around Europe...'' the astrophysicist gratefully accepted the new glass of wine that had been brought to her by a server in black tie. Stark shook his head. ''No, apparently most of them have already been sold to private collectors.''

''That doesn't make me feel any better,'' mumbled Jane.

''It should, now both the artist and the subject are as rich as Croesus, not that they needed to be. I'm almost jealous. Rich and bohemian and fabulous, hanging out all day in their Parisian sex dungeon...'' The billionaire sighed.

''Please,'' said Jane, taking a very large sip of wine, ''please stop talking.''

''I think it's a metaphor,'' spoke up Bruce Banner, still staring thoughtfully at the painting. ''It's about vulnerability and strength. The sharp violence of the dagger juxtaposed against bare skin...''

''Nah,'' Clint Barton shook his head, ''I think they're just the kind of people that like to have knives in bed.''

Thor stifled a laugh, Jane shot him an evil glare. ''Hey, don't knock it til you've tried it,'' mumbled Natasha. Steve looked utterly scandalized. Tony just kept smiling.

* * *

><p><strong>Cimetière Montparnasse, Paris<strong>

The graveyard stung her nose with the over-sweet smell of flowers. The miles of headstones and statues made her sad—though not mournful, exactly. Nobody in this cemetery belonged to her, she was unfamiliar with the names—except for the famous ones-or the remains now given back to the earth. It was that same deep, tugging sadness that everyone feels, even just a little, when walking where the dead lay. But for her, it was so very different now, death seemed farther and farther away, like a dream that shrugged itself off easily in the light of a new day. Everything in the world was different now.

Unconsciously, Darcy pressed a hand against her heart, feeling the ever-steady pounding beneath her fingertips. Loki had once told her that her heartbeat sounded to him like rain falling onto water. That was before. Now it was stronger, it seemed, stronger than rain, fortified through many deaths and rebirths. Outwardly, she hadn't changed much. Maybe her eyes were a deeper, brighter blue; perhaps her skin was softer, maybe it even seemed to glow just a little in the right light. She felt different, though, like her spirit was also stronger now. As were her abilities. Loki continued to teach her everything that he knew—they'd often stay awake late into the night, sitting on the bed reading page after yellowed page of runic text, making things move, bend, disappear and reappear. Music and laughter would sometimes drift into the room from down on the street below if the windows were open, maybe the smell of food from the cafe, the sound of people living their own brief lives. Darcy liked it when she could hear them laughing.

Her senses were still heightened almost to a fault—she could hear a dripping faucet two floors down, feel rain in the air long before it ever arrived, while the skies were still clear. Yet she had grown almost used to this—you could get used to anything if you had enough time, she supposed.

* * *

><p><strong>SHIELD<strong>

''You know exactly who we need for this,'' Natasha Romanov told Nicholas Fury in a firm and decisive tone. A stack of very troubling files lay spread out on the desk in front of him. ''You've read the case details, you know that they'll be able to handle the assignment better than anyone. They can see things that the rest of us can't, let's face it.''

Fury raised an eyebrow at her, considering this a moment before replying. He looked down at the case files again, sighed, and then said, ''Those two are probably the most unpredictable people I have ever met. And while I actually do agree with you about them being right for this, I certainly have my doubts about bringing them back onto active duty. It's been far less chaotic around here with them gone, and you said yourself that they're perfectly happy where they are. So what makes you think that they'll even agree?''

''I don't know,'' admitted Natasha. ''But it's worth asking, don't you think?''

The Director sighed deeply. ''Fine. Ask them. But I would advise you to be careful what you wish for.''

* * *

><p>Now it was a breezy, slightly chilly gray Tuesday. It looked like it was going to rain. Darcy was having a lazy day, hanging out in bed surrounded by books and her computer. She glanced at the time and then logged into Skype. After moving to France, Darcy had kept in contact with the Black Widow, much to Loki's dismay. She couldn't help it—it was nice sometimes to talk to someone from home, even if that someone was a Russian super-assassin.<p>

''Hey, girl, hey!'' Darcy chirped as Natasha's face came into view on the laptop screen in front of her.

''Hey yourself,'' the redhead responded with a light smile. ''I have a question for you.''

''I don't like the sound of this...''

''Just hear me out. You don't have to agree to anything, but it would be very much appreciated if you would consider what I'm asking you.''

''Appreciated by...''

''Your former employer. And myself, by extension.''

Darcy groaned. ''And here I thought you just wanted to chat. I should have known better.''

''I told you never to trust that woman,'' came Loki's voice as he walked into the room, stark naked and still dripping wet from a shower. He opened the closet and pulled out a pair of black pants and then disappeared into the adjoining room.

''Tell him I said hello,'' Natasha said with a smirk, overhearing. But thankfully unable to see.

Darcy followed him with her eyes, then turned back to the computer.

''I will. Ok, just for shits and giggles, ask away.'' She made a show of sighing deeply. ''What can we do for the illustrious SHIELD?''

''A certain group, based in New England, has come onto our radar. We're concerned about some of their practices and would like to investigate further.''

''What kind of group?'' asked Darcy, reaching over to the night table and retrieving her mug of coffee.

''Speaking frankly, they're a cult. They own a large portion of land in rural Connecticut. At least 7-13 people live there at any given time, but that number changes periodically. They identify themselves as 'seekers of enlightenment and the restoration of the spirit and body to its full potential.' ''

''That doesn't sound so bad,'' she shrugged, taking a sip. ''A little enlightenment and restoration never hurt anybody.''

''This place isn't exactly an ashram, Darcy. Over eight people have vanished without a trace, last seen on the grounds of their compound. Three bodies were recently uncovered in the surrounding area. We're almost positive that the group was behind it, but we don't have enough proof at this time.''

''How is this a job for SHIELD at all?'' Darcy asked skeptically. ''If they're a cult, doesn't the FBI have a division that handles this sort of thing?''

''Sorry, Mulder and Scully are busy this week,'' Natasha said with an eye roll. ''It's not just your run of the mill cult. There's something much darker and more insidious at work out there. Most cults center around a charismatic leader and a set of delusional beliefs. In the end, they turn out to be just that—promises given in order to secure loyalty among the members. However, in this case it seems as though their beliefs might not be so delusional at all, and that could be a very dangerous thing. Please just take a look at some of the files I'm sending to you—you guys don't have to agree to anything, but we are asking for your help, if you will give it. If you agree, once you get back I can brief you on your full assignment.''

''Alright,'' Darcy agreed, nodding. ''Send me the files, I'll take a look. But Loki is definitely going to take some convincing,'' she added, glancing over into the other room.

Natasha sighed. ''Use your feminine wiles.''

''Sure, because that always works.''

''You'd be surprised.''

After signing off with Natasha and then retrieving and printing the files from a secure email account that had been created for her, Darcy spread out her yoga mat on the floor and began what had become a daily routine of contorting her body into various poses. She was actually getting quite good. Truth be told, she'd started the practice mainly to become more flexible during sex. Loki seemed to favor rather adventurous positions that required a good deal of balance—like the weird parts of the _Kama Sutra_ that most normal couples never attempt. However, after a few weeks she found that daily yoga gave her a sense of well-being and balance, helped to center her. She shifted up on the mat into downward facing dog as she considered the Black Widow's proposal.

''I like that one,'' came Loki's voice from behind her. Upside down, Darcy could see the appraising smirk on his face as he stared at her. ''Yeah, yeah,'' she mumbled, smiling as she eased herself back down and then sat up.

''What did she want?'' he asked, meaning Natasha. He poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle on the shelf.

''There's some kind of assignment that SHIELD wants our help with. We don't have to do it, she was just asking.''

''There is no 'just asking' with them,'' he sighed darkly, seeming annoyed and yet somehow resigned. ''I knew it was only a matter of time.''

''Yes it was. But we have nothing _but_ time, baby. Can't we at least think about it?''

''What is the assignment?'' Loki demanded warily.

''It's some kind of murderous cult thingy that needs investigating. Natasha sent me some files. I printed them out but haven't gotten a chance to look at them yet.'' Darcy hopped to her feet and walked over to where the printer was, retrieving the small stack of paper lying there facedown. The first thing to assault her vision was the image of a very bloody and strangely mutilated corpse. ''Yikes,'' she muttered. ''Can you pour me a glass of wine?'' she called over to Loki. ''Like, a big one?''

''What is it?'' he asked, looking mildly amused as he poured her drink, then brought it over to her. The amused look quickly devolved into one of utter disgust as he saw the picture in her hands. ''Oh dear, that's _vile_,'' he noted, taking a large sip.

''Gimmee,'' she said, pulling the glass out of his hands. ''I guess this is what we'd be getting into...'' she flipped to the next photo. ''Aaand, it only gets worse.''

''I'm absolutely not doing this,'' the god stated in a firm tone.

''Don't even pretend that you're grossed out by blood, you've had sex with me on my period.'' She paused a moment, setting the files down. ''Speaking of which, am I going to have one of those for like, three thousand years?'' Darcy made a face at the thought.

He rolled his eyes. ''Yes, you're going to be...fertile for a very long time, I'm afraid.''

''Now that our bodies are like...more compatible, should we be doing anything special to like, prevent conception?'' She blearily wondered why in the hell they hadn't talked about this earlier.

''Our bodies were _compatible_ before, as I recall,'' Loki said, giving her a sideways smile. ''Your risk of pregnancy is much the same as it ever was. However, none of your pills will work now, due to alterations in your hormones and your metabolism. Don't worry, I'm careful. I always have been, _obviously_. You won't get pregnant.''

''Oh. Ok.'' Darcy laughed a little, inexplicably nervous, suddenly. ''That went off topic really fast, sorry. Um...'' She picked up one of the photographs again. ''I have to admit, this has me a little intrigued, despite the ick factor. And it would be nice to see everyone.''

She looked so prettily hopeful that Loki caved, despite his better judgement. He knew that eventually she would want to go back and visit everyone. Hopefully now this would be a good opportunity to get it out of her system. ''Alright. Tell her we'll do it.''

''Yaaay!'' Darcy happily captured his lips in a kiss. ''This is going to be good, I have a feeling.''

* * *

><p>That night, it rained. It was a gloomy, pretty, silvery rain. ''It would be a perfect night for some violin music,'' remarked Helen from where she floated near the window. Their resident discarnate spirit was a young woman, perhaps around thirty. She appeared as a vague, near-translucent gray outline, like an old and fraying black and white film on a projector. Always wearing the very same dress that she'd worn the day she'd killed herself, over eighty years before.<p>

''You would think that,'' Darcy mumbled. She was curled up in the squashy armchair by the fireplace, a blanket around her shoulders, perusing the files again.

''I don't much like the look of those pictures,'' the ghost added, inclining her head slightly towards Darcy. ''I really don't think that you should leave.''

''Helen, we're coming back. We're not going to be gone that long.'' She turned the page to read about the alleged leader of the group, a man named Lugh Retnick. As soon as she saw a picture of him, a familiar feeling climbed along her spine, and then something happened that hadn't in awhile: a shifting flare of double vision assaulted Darcy's eyes, accompanied by a very cold, very uncomfortable tremor. Whoever this man was, there was definitely something otherworldly about him—he wasn't from here. He was from someplace much darker.

The spirit didn't say anything for a moment. Then her wispy voice came. ''There's a strange tree, far out in the field.''

Darcy looked up. Unconsciously, she drew the blanket more firmly around her shoulders. ''What?''

''Blood on the branches, blood in the soil, the roots drink it up.''

Darcy couldn't help but shiver a little. She was used to this, though: Helen tended to be a little melodramatic and maudlin.

''What tree are you talking about? What field?''

Helen fell silent. Darcy was the only one that she actually spoke to or appeared to, really. Loki could sense her, but she become more of a poltergeist when he was around, choosing to communicate with him through a series of knocks and bangs and taps on walls and other various surfaces, or by simply tossing things across the room. It wasn't really personal, Helen simply didn't trust men all that much, which made sense, given the circumstances surrounding her demise.

The rain continued on into the night. Helen only seemed to grow more and more restless the longer Darcy looked at the files, and so she tucked them away safely in a folder on the shelf. Which was just fine, their contents seemed to be growing more and more unseemly by the minute. Loki was sitting in the corner by a tall lamp, sketching quietly. He usually drew in the evenings and painted during the day. Darcy crept over behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder and looking at the paper.

''Is that me?'' she asked, even though she could tell that it was as she stared at the image in light charcoal, a woman with long hair walking in a cemetery, a thougthful and far-away expression on her face. He nodded.

''You've never been there with me, though,'' she noted.

''Yes, I have,'' he replied quietly.

''Why didn't you say anything?''

''I just wanted to watch you. You look very sad and beautiful when you're alone. Something hidden comes out in your eyes. It's intriguing.'' Loki paused a moment, then asked, ''Why do you go there so often?''

Darcy shrugged. ''I like walking in cemeteries. I always have. It's not like a creepy thing, they're just...peaceful.''

''We don't have anything like it on Asgard. That's not what we do with the dead.''

''Yeah, you guys cremate...a lot of people do that here, too.'' She thought about it. ''There's also like...mummification, or cryogenics, maybe.''

The pencil stilled on the paper. ''What are cryogenics?''

''It's a way of preserving someone after they 'die'—except they're not absolutely and completely dead. It's usually rich or important people that do it, they think that maybe someday in the future, whatever they died of will have a cure and then they can be brought back and live again.''

''Like the soldier?'' he asked.

''Who? Oh, Steve. Yeah, that's sort of what happened to him. Except that he didn't intend on being frozen and then brought back.''

''Wouldn't it be rather dreadful, though?'' Loki wondered aloud. ''Suppose that you were woken up, and cured, but the world would have changed so—all of the people that you knew in life would either be very old or dead—what would be the point in waking up at all? And then what about when you die the second time?''

Neither one of them said anything after that, she just kept her head resting quietly on his shoulder, and stared at the drawing.

* * *

><p>It kept raining for days, right up to the night before they left to fly back to New York. Helen simply stood by the window and cried for hours. Darcy was trying to pack some of her things, and so she quickly downloaded some violin music to her iPod and played it loudly in the hopes that the spirit might be appeased or at least distracted for a little while. Or that it might drone out her crying. When ghosts cried, Darcy had unhappily come to discover, they didn't sound like humans. It was more of an otherworldly, pained keening that sounded not-unlike wind screaming through an abandoned house.<p>

Loki entered the room, covered in splotches of paint. Just as he did so, a small green vase that had been sitting on the top of one of the bookshelves suddenly flew at his head. Quick as lightning, his hand shot up and he caught it. ''She's still not thrilled about us leaving, I take it?'' he said dryly.

''Very much _not thrilled_, yes,'' Darcy muttered.

''I don't like it any more than you do, Helen,'' he called out. ''I promise that we'll be back soon.''

Helen didn't say anything in reply, just sobbed harder. Sometime later she finally stopped and disappeared, slinking away to wherever she went when she wasn't haunting them. Their flight was going to be leaving in a few hours. Darcy had wanted to take another walk through the cemetery, but because of the rain she hadn't gotten a chance. That was fine, she told herself, they'd hopefully be back within the next month and the weather would be nicer then, anyhow. She picked up her suitcase.

* * *

><p>''Well, here we are again,'' she muttered tiredly as they walked through the airport after a very long flight. Though Darcy was exhausted, she had to admit that it was nice to be back in New York, that she would soon be seeing her friends. Though it still seemed strange somehow to refer to Tony Stark as her 'friend.' The billionaire stood at the end of the terminal, impeccably dressed and grinning widely.<p>

''You didn't have to come and meet us,'' Darcy said, setting down her bag. ''We could have gotten a cab or something.''

''I literally had nothing else to do this afternoon, kiddo,'' he responded, scooping her up in a tight hug. ''Come on, I've got the car waiting.''

''Everyone is coming over to my place a little later,'' Stark told them, once the three were settled in the back of the large and comfortable vehicle. ''They can't wait to see you.''

''I'm sure,'' Loki muttered.

''But if I were you,'' Stark added, gesturing at the god with his glass of Scotch, ''I'd steer clear of Dr. Foster for awhile. She wasn't exactly thrilled with your latest piece.''

Darcy cringed a little. She should have known that Tony would automatically show everyone the painting that he'd bought from Loki. It was actually supposed to have been a bit of mischief, a kind of tongue-in-cheek thing, reminding everyone of the unnecessary debacle that Loki's drawings of her had caused so many months before.

''What's she going to do, slap me again?'' he asked, amused. ''She'd better be careful, I might start to enjoy it.''

Darcy shook her head at Loki, sighing and clucking her tongue. ''You'd better behave yourself. We just got back, try not to incur anyone's wrath until tomorrow, at least.''

**Stark Tower**

Nothing seemed to have changed too much upon their return. Everyone looked much the same as they had before, and the city was still busy and indifferent. Darcy was greeted warmly by Bruce and Natasha. Steve was out on an assignment, and Thor wasn't on Earth at the moment, so all in all it was a small group. Spotting a familiar face, Darcy called out ''Jane!'' and ran over to her friend and former boss. Though the astrophysicist smiled and wrapped her in a hug, she seemed a bit stiff and formal, like she was bothered by something. Darcy tried to ignore it, telling herself that Jane was probably just consumed with whatever project she was currently working on. Still, the scientist remained uncharacteristically quiet as the younger woman chattered on about her months away.

Pulling out her iPad, Darcy flipped through the pictures of some of the many trips that she and Loki had taken. ''Here's Tokyo. Oooh, and here's us next to some Mayan ruins.''Then an image slid across the screen of her standing next to a very striking raven-haired woman with bright green eyes and a familiar smirk. ''Who's that?'' Jane asked.

''Oh! That's just...''Darcy blushed a little and flipped past the picture, which had been taken one particularly _interesting_ evening when Loki had shifted into his female form. Jane eyed her curiously. ''Just...something different...hey—there's the big heads on Easter Island...I wonder if they were part of the Network...speaking of which, here's us in England by the 'Gosforth Cross', the fake one, I guess. I like it better than the real one. Aaaand there's Prague. And Paris—this is where we've been living. It's really pretty. My French is still terrible though.''

The scientist gave a small, tight smile in response to all of this, and then went over to the other side of the room to talk to Bruce Banner for a minute. Darcy felt her stomach begin to hurt a little bit as she observed her friend's very chilly demeanor, sure now that it did in fact have something to do with her return. She watched as Jane left the room and slid into the women's bathroom, decided to follow her. She stood at the sink, fixing her hair and reapplying a small amount of lip gloss. ''Hi,'' Darcy offered. The astrophysicist turned, a flat and almost angry look on her face.

''So what the hell are you now, actually?'' Jane demanded warily. ''Some kind of goddess or something?'' Darcy was a little taken aback by this, but she blinked and sighed and tried to give an answer as best she could, though there was an unhappy, prickling feeling behind her eyes, the distant threat of tears. ''It's complicated. I'm not sure, exactly. But yeah, I guess...or at least I'm more like Thor or Loki.'' She shrugged. ''Apparently, I'm going to live for like 5,000 plus years...heal faster than a normal person...''

Jane turned away. She was very, very quiet for a moment, just staring into the mirror. ''Does that bother you?'' she finally asked, in a strange voice.

''Why would it bother me?'' Darcy responded, a little too quickly and sharply, not liking something in her friend's tone.

''Oh, I don't know. I thought that maybe the thought of watching all of your friends grow old and die while you stay exactly the same might take some getting used to, but you seem to be handling it fine.'' Jane screwed the cap back onto the tube of gloss, tightly bottled aggression in her movements.

''Why are you being like this? What is this really about?'' Darcy realized with dismay that she had begun to chew her fingernails. She hadn't done that in months, the habit suddenly disappearing on its own after she and Loki first arrived in Paris.

''You just _disappeared_, Darce,'' Jane snapped.''You and him. You never even said goodbye to me, not a word of where you were for months and months! I hear all these strange stories...you saved the world, you're some kind of reincarnated mythical person that can travel to different dimensions. I didn't know what to think. I missed the whole thing. I...fell asleep and you were just my assistant, my best friend. And then I woke up and the world almost ended again, and you were gone.''

Tears began to build in the corner of Darcy's eyes. ''Jane, I'm sorry. It was...it was just easier that way. I know that maybe it seems selfish to you, and maybe it was—but after everything that we went through...Loki and I just needed to be alone together. We just wanted some peace, some time to decompress and sort through everything. Can you understand that?''

Jane's eyes softened just a little. ''I can. But I was worried about you. I've been worried about you from the beginning, from the first time I ever saw you with him.''

Darcy opened her mouth to say something but Jane rushed on ahead. ''I know what you're going to say, and I don't care. We both have the right to our opinions. And despite whatever may have happened, whatever good things that Loki may have done in the past year, I will never trust him. I will never like him. In fact, he disgusts me. The thought of you with him makes my skin crawl. And it's not just me. Stark and some of the others may have eased up on Loki a little bit, but that's more for your sake than anything else. It's so cliché. 'Beauty and the Beast', that's what they call you guys. But it isn't cute, and it isn't funny, and everyone knows that, deep down. I'm sorry, Darcy, but nobody really likes your boyfriend.''

''It doesn't matter.'' Darcy whispered. A tear slid down her face, and she brushed it away.

''That's right, it doesn't matter,'' replied Jane, a heavy melancholy in her voice. ''The damage has already been done. After the next several decades it really won't matter, because we'll all be dead and you two will have the rest of your five thousand years to be _alone_ together.'' Then she turned and left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all of the reviews and follows, I'm glad that you're all liking this story so far! Here is the next chapter for you!**

* * *

><p>Darcy was rather numb as they returned to her old apartment, the one that Tony had been keeping for her. She had expected to feel something more upon arriving back there, some sort of comfortable familiarity, but there was nothing. It was just a space, just walls and a floor. She dragged her suitcase glumly into the bedroom and set it down with an abrupt <em>clunk<em> that echoed. Loki followed her. ''You've been crying,'' he noted.

''It's nothing,'' she replied dismissively. The god was very tight-lipped, seething with anger. They hadn't even been back a full day and already someone had hurt her. This was exactly why he had been hesitant about their return: Darcy had changed. She had been through some impossible alterations, and it would not be near as easy as she had anticipated to slip back into her old life, a place where she no longer fit.

''Who?'' he demanded simply.

''It's _nothing_,'' she said again, pulling off her coat and tossing it onto the bed.

''Don't make me go looking for it. Tell me.''

She sighed, heavily and sadly. ''Jane...she...she wasn't very happy to see me...and I just keep feeling like I did something wrong, even though I know I didn't. It hurts.'' Darcy chewed her nails. Loki quietly reached out and pulled her hand away from her mouth, holding it. Then he brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them. His tongue darted out to lick along her index finger. She shivered. He stared deeply into her eyes, as if he was considering something, then released her hand.

''Take your clothes off and lay on the bed,'' he instructed in a low voice that sent heat pooling deep inside of her. Then he turned walked into the other room. Darcy did so, stripping and settling herself down, heart pounding in curious anticipation. Loki did not return, so she simply lay there, waiting. Then she felt his words in her head. ''_I want to try something_.''

''_What_?'' she asked.

''_Just relax. Trust me. Open your mind to me completely_.''

She closed her eyes and concentrated on only their mind-link, trying to expand it. Then she felt _him_, more and more, almost as if he was moving through her entire being. In her blood. A small sigh escaped Darcy's lips. Then her left hand started to twitch, on it's own. Surprised, she looked down at it. ''_Trust me_,'' came the words again. Then her hand lifted, moved. It reminded Darcy a bit of those times when the Well had possessed her, though not nearly as terrifying. It was actually rather pleasant. Knowing that she wasn't in any danger allowed her to open up more to whatever was going to happen. Her hand slid down between her legs and found her clit, starting to rub in slow, torturous circles.

Darcy wanted to laugh but then found herself moaning out loud instead. Her right hand moved now, plunging two fingers inside of her. The fingers of her left hand picked up rhythm, and the other pumped those digits slowly in and out. Her hips canted up, moving back and forth as the tension continued to build. Loki kept changing the motion just to drive her crazy, she was sure, every time she felt herself getting close he would slow down. It forced Darcy to relinquish control, let go, forget about everything else but what was happening to her, knowing that she was experiencing a kind of closeness with her lover that most would never even hope to achieve. That was what all this had been for. Moments like this when they existed only for each other.

In the other room, his eyes were shut tightly with concentration. Loki would have loved nothing more than to be watching Darcy, but he'd never attempted this before and couldn't be distracted. He was also completely overwhelmed with sensation, overloaded by it. On a tactile level, he could feel what her hands felt—the soft slick heat of her, so familiar, but through their mind-link he could also feel her pleasure. This put him at a weirdly advantageous position. The two fingers inside of her angled and curled forwards, hitting just right while the other hand kept working her clit. And then there was that final, delightful second that tipped her over the edge. Darcy came apart quickly, crying out ''oh god, oh _fuck_ yes!'' and thrashed back and forth. She closed her eyes and let it wash over her and then finally abate. She felt him recede a bit from her mind, she could feel her hands again under her control.

Her whole body hummed, felt wonderfully drugged and yet charged with electricity. She was unbelievably aroused still, throbbing and damp between the legs. Slowly getting up off of the bed, Darcy crept into the other room quietly, let her eyes drink in the sight of him sprawled in a chair, dark hair falling across his pale forehead, lips parted, breath coming quickly.

Loki was temporarily overcome by how erotic an experience it had been. He was also almost painfully aroused, his erection straining at the front of his pants. Then she suddenly appeared, moving into the room, naked, hair wild and skin deliriously flushed. Darcy sank down onto her knees in front of him, dragging at the zipper. ''You should teach me that trick so that I can do you,'' she said with a smile and he shuddered as she pulled out his cock and sank her lips down around it. Burying his fingers in her hair, Loki out a deep groan of encouragement as she began to work at him relentlessly. He wouldn't last long, but she wasn't going to stop. He clutched at her, threw back his head as he came in a sudden spasm. She swallowed every drop, then looked up at him lovingly.

''Thanks,'' Darcy whispered. ''What for?'' he asked, his fingers still threaded through her hair. Naked and kneeling between his legs, she was absolutely beautiful. ''For reminding me about us,'' she answered.

* * *

><p>The next day, they had to meet with Natasha at SHIELD for a briefing on their new assignment. As Darcy and Loki walked down the hallway toward the elevators, they passed by Jane's office. The door opened and a young woman walked out carrying a stack of files. She had the weary look about her eyes that suggested she'd been doing long hours of data entry. Jane must have gotten a new assistant, Darcy realized. Of course, that was to be expected. She was probably running the poor girl ragged. Darcy almost wanted to smile, but the smile felt so remarkably bittersweet that it collapsed upon itself and disappeared, leaving only a bad taste in the back of her throat.<p>

If nothing else, the Black Widow looked remarkably happy to see them. Though Loki had said over and over again not to trust her, Natasha had been there during some very difficult moments over the past year, and she'd always kept any promises that she made. She motioned for them both to sit down.

''I spared you guys a meeting with Fury,'' the assassin said with a half-smile. ''I'm going to be the lead agent in charge of this, so hopefully things will run smoothly, and then you both can take off again. I do want to say thank you for coming back and taking on this assignment. I recommended you both to the Director because I think that you are exactly what we need in this particular case.''

''And why is that?'' asked Loki in a bland tone.

''Based on past precedent—some of the things that I personally witnessed while working with the two of you. I pride myself on being able to read people very well.''

''So, what kind of cult are we going to be dealing with, exactly?'' asked Darcy.

Natasha searched for a file on the tablet in front of her as she explained, ''They call themselves the 'The Restored Ones'. From what we've gathered, they think that they can communicate with other worlds, speak to gods. And also that the gods choose their bodies to use as vessels.''

''Vessels for what?'' wondered Darcy. This wasn't seeming particularly strange to her yet, ironically enough.

''That's what we're trying to figure out,'' the Black Widow replied. ''The three bodies that were found near the property, the ones you saw in the pictures I sent—they were confiscated by SHIELD and so the findings never appear on any official reports. But there were certain distinct...characteristics which we felt warranted a deeper investigation.''

''What kinds of characteristics?''

''Of the non-human variety.'' The redhead set the tablet down and folded her hands.

''This is nonsense.'' Loki began eyeing the door.

''It's _not _nonsense,'' Natasha responded evenly. ''We know for a fact that these sorts of genetic alterations aren't impossible, they've happened before.'' She looked right at Darcy. ''Human beings can sometimes be...changed into something more. And I don't just mean you. Banner, the Captain, even Tony...it can happen. What we want to know, is _how_. Each alteration is different, occurs from a different source. Banner had his gamma exposure. Steve had the serum, Tony the reactor. But of all of them, you are the only one who was changed by something...supernatural.''

''It's not supernatural,'' insisted Darcy, feeling oddly offended. ''Just because we don't have the precise scientific terms to explain how it happened doesn't mean that we never will.''

''Still. We asked you both for help because you have a very unique understanding of this kind of...thing. We'd like to know how the group is able to do what they're doing. It's possible that they've gotten their hands on some kind of new technology. If that's the case, then we need to know where they've gotten it from. They say it comes from their 'gods.' Now, you know probably better than any of us how that can mean a lot of different things. Loki, you and Thor were once referred to as gods. Maybe that word can simply be taken to indicate something more than human. Not necessarily benevolent, just...bigger. Powerful, advanced. More difficult to understand. We could simply be dealing with a visitation from another world. Not Asgard, but perhaps similar.''

So this group was playing Dr. Frankenstein. Darcy decided that if nothing else, at least it was decently mysterious. ''So what do you want us to do?''

''We want you to go and infiltrate this group. Find out what exactly is going on in their compound.''

''How do you propose we do that?'' asked Loki. He was seeming only vaguely more interested now.

''By doing what you do best,'' replied Natasha. ''Be a trickster. First the two of you need new names and cover stories. This group doesn't just let anyone in: they're remarkably selective for a cult. Luckily, we've been setting up some background for you both—the Restored Ones seem to do quite a bit of communicating on the Internet, just like everyone else. We've been posting on forums and message boards as you, or at least the people that you will be pretending to be, to lay down the ground work and set up a meeting between you both and the group—a kind of audition, so to speak.''

''What are our stories?'' asked Darcy, intrigued. She did have a newly-acquired fondness for role-play.

''You two are married. Your name is Lucy O'Neal, you are a reconstructionist pagan with an extensive background in anthropology.''

''I have no idea what a reconstructionist pagan is, and I only took one anthropology course, ever. It was pass-fail.'' Darcy had skipped that class the vast majority of the time. She'd really have to utilize whatever acting chops she had in order to pretend to be an expert on the subject.

Natasha smiled, patiently amused. ''Most neopaganism that is practiced today is just that—_new_. The practitioners draw on what few primary sources that they have available to them and then fill in the gaps, basically. The fact of the matter is that there's not that much historical evidence to go on, no way to know exactly how the earliest pagans practiced their religion. As a reconstructionist, in your ritual work, for example, you try to get as close as possible to what the original might have been, based on various texts and archeological or anthropological sources.''

Darcy scrunched up her face. ''That sounds like it involves an awful lot of reading.''

''Fortunately, it's reading that you've already done,'' said Natasha, handing her a thick binder full of paper.

''What's this?'' Darcy asked as she regarded the volume hesitantly for a moment before flipping it open.

''Your thesis, complete with full bibliography and index. Apparently, it's been circulating around through some of these message boards and the members seem quite impressed.''

''A fake thesis? Where the hell did this come from?''

''It's not fake, not at all,'' the Black Widow shook her head. ''It was ghostwritten by a SHIELD agent. We have a small division that specializes in document rendering.''

''Wow,'' Darcy sifted through the pages. Thankfully, there was highlighting over what she assumed to be the key points. ''I guess I've got homework again, then.'' She set the binder down on the desk.

''Loki, your name is William O' Neal, you are somewhat of an expert on ceremonial magic and its history. Here's _your_ dissertation.'' Natasha slid an equally large binder across the table to him.

''Must I be?'' he asked, rolling his eyes.

''What is-'' Darcy began.

''There are different branches of it, but basically most ceremonial magic involves the ritual summoning of entities,'' Natasha quickly supplied.

''What kind of_ entities_?''

''Demons, angels, ghosts—it could be anything, really.'' The assassin shrugged.

''So basically he's a necromancer.'' Casting a sideways glance at Loki, Darcy fake-shuddered a little. He rolled his eyes and scowled.

''Something like that. The group is interested in you both because you're unique. Not only do you have impressive academic backgrounds, but you also believe what you write. This makes your ideas very valuable.'' Natasha fixed them both with a pointed look. ''Give the group as much validation as you possibly can, and observe what they do with it. Get the leader to trust you enough to show you what's really going on. Give them the old razzle-dazzle.''

Darcy raised her eyebrows at the ''Chicago'' reference. ''I never figured you for a fan of musicals.''

''I'll have you know that during one of my first undercover assignments, I performed in ''Cabaret'' _and _''Sweet Charity.'' The redhead looked proud of herself. ''Now, we're going to be setting up a meeting for you both and the group for next Thursday. I know that isn't a lot of time, but you guys are good at improv, right?''

''I guess so,'' Darcy agreed, staring witheringly at the thick binders in front of them.

''Ok, then get going,'' Natasha said with a nod. ''We'll regroup here on Tuesday morning and finalize the plans.''

* * *

><p>They left the building quickly after the meeting and returned to the apartment. Darcy had been glancing hesitantly at the door to Jane's office as they passed it, and so Loki had quickly reminded her that they had a lot of work to do. He'd decided that he was going to have to keep her distracted, or else she'd simply start to go down an unhappy self-doubting spiral. Now, she did indeed seem to be engrossed with their new assignment, she was sitting on the couch perusing the large binder that Natasha had given to her.<p>

''Oh, jeez, this is some heavy stuff,'' Darcy groaned a little as she flipped through 'her' thesis. ''I don't know anything about paganism...''

''Polytheism. The worship of multiple gods with different characteristics,'' Loki offered.

''Well, duh, I knew _that_ much, _William_. But it could also involve like...nature and stuff? Oh, who am I kidding, I'm out of my depth. You would think that sleeping with a god would be a prerequisite for something like this but nooooo...'' she trailed off, thinking. Then her eyes lit up. ''Wait! I think I know someone who can help.''

After several Facebook messages were hastily exchanged, Darcy managed to set up a meeting with her former college roommate, the one who could supposedly read auras and astral project. Back then, Darcy had thought she was a bit of a flake. Time had proved this not to be the case—far, far stranger things existed. As luck would have it, she was in the area visiting her family, who lived less than an hour outside the city. They agreed to meet at a coffee shop further downtown, _not_ Starbucks, much to Darcy's dismay.

''Is that what you're going to wear?'' she asked Loki as they got ready. He was elegantly attired in black, as usual. ''What's the matter with it?'' he asked, a sigh in the words.

Darcy paused in brushing her long hair in front of the mirror, turned to face him. ''Why don't you wear something a little less...evil CEO and more 'organic soy chai latte'?''

''I have no idea what you're talking about, and frankly I'd rather keep it that way.''

''Look, we're supposed to sort of be undercover, right? Even for research purposes. You have to look the part of someone who is legitimately interested in these subjects,'' she explained.

''How in the Nine could you possibly gleam someone's interests simply by what they're wearing?'' Loki scoffed.''That's ridiculous.''

''I'm just making a point about perception,'' Darcy offered, holding up her hands. ''A valid point, might I add. You don't have to wear hemp fabrics and Birkenstocks, just lose the scary boardroom vibe. You look too rich.''

Loki sighed deeply, then his appearance shifted and he was wearing a thin gray shirt and jeans.

''That's better,'' Darcy nodded approvingly. ''Turn.'' He obliged her, turning with a scowl. ''Your butt looks _great_ in those jeans by the way. Now we've gotta fix your hair.''

''Haven't you done enough to it already?'' Loki wearily demanded. Darcy was rather opinionated on the subject of his hair. She hated when he slicked it back, and so they typically compromised: he wore it like that at work and when they were alone together he let it go looser and softer, which annoyed him to no end because it kept falling into his face, a look that seemed to make her swoon, for some strange reason.

''It looks weird when you push it back like that, it looks like a bad wig.'' She moved closer, brush in hand, ready to pounce. He pretended to put up a fight, made her work to wrestle him down so that she could drag the brush through his dark hair. ''Fine, you win,'' he said, leaning back against her. She ran her fingers over his scalp. ''Yes, I do,'' she replied with a smug smile. ''See, isn't this better?''

''I suppose we all must make sacrifices,'' he offered with a sigh.

* * *

><p><strong>Two Hours Later<strong>

Inside the artsy little coffee shop downtown, there was a slight young woman sitting at a table. Her long golden-brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun; she had very interesting features betraying a blended heritage, high cheekbones and almond-shaped hazel eyes. The girl also wore very long earrings that dangled, and a variety of beaded necklaces. ''Hey there!'' she said with a smile, setting down the book she'd been reading once she noticed them approaching. ''Hey Pru,'' Darcy replied, giving her a hug. ''Good to see you again. Logan, this is Prudence Sang, my old roommate from college. Prudence, this is Logan, my...um...boyfriend.'' It still felt like a very strange term, like it didn't match what he was to her. The word felt funny and awkward on her tongue.

Prudence's smile widened. ''Nice to meet you, Logan.'' She shook Loki's hand, then gestured for the two of them to join her at the table. ''So, how the hell have you been? It's been almost two years since we last spoke face to face...you were running around the desert with those crazy scientists—you still doing that?''

Darcy forced a smile. ''Nope, not exactly. I've actually been...doing a lot of writing. And researching.''

''Oh, how cool!'' Prudence bounced a little in her chair. Her long earrings swung back and forth with the movement. ''What are you researching?''

''That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I've recently become very interested in neopaganism, and I know that's something you're very familiar with so I was hoping maybe you might be able to...explain some stuff to me?'' Darcy asked in a hopeful voice.

Prudence blinked. ''Well, sure. I mean, I don't exactly know everything.''

''Are you a pagan?'' Loki asked her, seeming almost genuinely interested.

''I'm a Wiccan, actually, I was raised that way. Well, half, I guess—my dad's a Buddhist. But he never minded Selene teaching me everything she knew.'' Prudence shrugged and took a sip from the cup in front of her. ''I've been to lots of events, though, and met people from all kinds of different traditions. Hey, actually, I was heading back home—they're having a small gathering at the house later for the Esbat—that's a full moon celebration. You guys should come with me! You can talk to Selene and some of the others, they know tons.''

''Ok,'' Darcy nodded, after shooting a quick glance at Loki. Prudence's enthusiasm was infectious, and at least this would give her a chance to get some firsthand experience with a subject that she was going to have to pretend to be an expert on.

Prudence's family's house wasn't too far outside the city, it was a very nice place with a large backyard and swimming pool. They were greeted warmly at the front door by a tall, pretty woman with long, honey-colored hair, wearing a loose-fitting shirt decorated with beadwork. ''Oh, good, you brought friends!'' she said to Prudence as she ushered them inside. ''Pru's always been a little sticky about inviting people over in the past.'' The woman rolled her eyes. ''I'm Selene, by the way.''

''Mom, this is Darcy, my old roommate. And this is her boyfriend, Logan,'' Pru introduced them. ''They're interested in neopaganism.''

''Well, you've come to the right place,'' Selene said, smiling at Darcy. Then she looked at Loki for an especially long while, smiling and yet not at the same time. While Prudence led Darcy over to one of the many tall bookshelves and pulled down several volumes for her to look at, Loki took note of the beautiful art prints framed on the walls.

''Here,'' Darcy was handed a small stack of books. ''These are pretty comprehensive, they should be really helpful.'' Prudence cocked her head to the side and studied her old roommate for a few moments. ''You're different,'' she noted, and Darcy raised her eyebrows. ''I mean _good_ different,'' Pru rushed to add, a smile on her face. ''Like...it's hard to explain, like you're younger and older at the same time.''

Letting out a little laugh, Darcy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ''It's been a weird couple of years,'' she admitted. ''But I'm happy.''

''I can see that, and I'm glad,'' Prudence said with a nod. ''You always seemed like you were looking for something...I guess you found it. I'm not surprised that you turned out to be a researcher,'' she added. ''Hey, I've got some things I can show you—some crystals, my ritual tools—I'll go get them. Why don't you go and talk to my mom for a few minutes while I do that. She's a High Priestess of her coven, she can tell you pretty much anything you want to know.''

While Prudence vanished into the stairwell in a blur of bracelets and patchouli oil, Darcy wandered into the kitchen and approached Selene, who was going through one of the various jars of herbs on the shelf along the wall. ''So, you've been doing this for a long time,'' she began, and the woman turned. ''I'm just getting into it...I'm wondering if you think it's better to work alone or with a group?''

Selene smiled, opening a jar and pulling out a bundle of something with an incredibly pungent smell. ''Well, it's really about your own heart. Some practitioners enjoy working alone, others crave the energy and connection that comes with group work. It also provides a sense of community. But it can sometimes take awhile to find the group that's right for you.'' Using a knife, she began to cut a few pieces of the aromatic plant.

''I was doing some reading online and I heard about the 'Restored Ones','' Darcy ventured. ''They sounded really...interesting.''

Selene set the knife down. The woman said absolutely nothing for a moment, but something in her face changed, grew tense. Then she said, ''I've always believed that you must choose your own path. But, I am a mother first. Please, there are so many other communities that you could belong to, if you're interested. It's not my place to influence you one way or the other, Darcy, but please, as a friend—stay away from those people.''

The urgent and almost pleading look on her face gave Darcy pause. ''Uh, ok. Thanks...for letting me know.'' She tried to laugh a little. ''I was just wondering.''

''Hey, Darce!'' Prudence's voice called from the next room. ''Come in here, I want to show you something.'' Darcy quickly left the kitchen and went to join her in the living room. Loki was standing in the other doorway now, looking out the window at the large backyard. Selene's gaze flickered over as she noticed him there.

''Don't think I don't know exactly who you are,'' their host began in a low, conversational tone as she moved around the kitchen, pulling out a mortar and pestle. ''Whatever you're really doing, you had better be careful. Darcy mentioned the Restored Ones. Those are dangerous people. Even for you.''

''Why, exactly?'' asked Loki, slipping into the room. ''What are they doing out there?''

Selene narrowed her eyes. ''Meddling,'' she replied, crushing the herb with a not-indistinct amount of venom in her motions. ''Dabbling with things that nobody should touch. My religion teaches respect for nature, and its boundaries. We should be in awe of its mystery, not try to control it, or harness it for our own purposes.''

''What do you think a spell is, then?'' he asked her. ''Isn't that harnessing energy for a purpose?''

''It's a_ request_. Made with the utmost respect and an understanding of the potential consequences.''

''Maybe that's the way it is here,'' Loki replied, picking up a small piece of the plant that Selene had been cutting.

''We're not from the same world, obviously,'' she responded in a clipped tone. ''You look at things like this a little differently. But tell me,'' Selene gave him a lopsided look, ''when you used your power for...less than altruistic reasons, there were always consequences, were there not?''

Loki didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>''Selene,'' Prudence called, setting down the large wooden box that she had been carrying and poking her head around the kitchen door, ''Are you drawing down the moon tonight?''<p>

''Yep,'' came the reply.

''Cool. Ok, let me explain to you what that is,'' said Prudence, seeing the look of confusion on Darcy's face. ''During the Esbat ritual, the High Priestess—that's mom—draws the energy of the goddess down and into her body. It's a very sacred thing. I've watched lots of different people do it.'' She flipped the latches on the lid of the box and opened it.

''What happens then?''

''Well, it's different for each person. Sometimes they shake and get all ecstatic...it's hard to channel that much energy through your body.'' Prudence sifted through the box until she removed what looked like a knife, then a chalice, and then a few more objects.

_You have no idea,_thought Darcy, recalling the violent burning all throughout her limbs when the Well had taken over her. ''So, the High Priestess _invites_ the energy in, right? It's not just, like, spontaneous possession?''

''Oh, no—it's not really _possession_.'' Prudence laughed a little. ''That word has such a terrible connotation. Maybe it's more like channelling, drawing down the energy for ritual purposes. It's temporary, obviously, and all done very respectfully. You're _asking_ the Goddess to bless you with her presence, She's not arbitrarily leaping into your body against your will. That would be awful.''

_Wouldn't it? _Darcy grumbled sarcastically to herself. To Prudence, she said ''Tell me about gods and goddesses.''

''It depends on what pantheon you want to work with, what traditions you follow. 'Paganism' in general is a very broad term,'' Pru tucked her legs underneath her, adjusted her tiny body into a more comfortable sitting position on the wooden floor. ''Polytheism is a better word, and it kind of exists on a spectrum. For example, some practitioners think that when you talk about different goddesses, like say, Isis or Athena, you're actually talking about different aspects of the same force. Different faces of the one same being. And then there's the people who think that absolutely yes, the gods do exist individually, that they're completely real and have their very own wills and distinct personalities. It's all a question of what you believe.''

''How would you know if something was a god or not?''Darcy asked.

''What do you mean?'' Prudence frowned, looking up at her.

''I mean, suppose that one day you met someone and they claimed to be a deity. How would you know if they were telling the truth?''

Prudence let out a huge laugh. ''If I met someone who claimed to be a god, I would most definitely recommend that they get some counselling. I've never honestly had any sort of really personal experience with a god or goddess. I mean, I have my patron deities that I work with and pray to, and I consider myself to have a 'relationship' with them, but that's a completely different thing. They don't talk to me or physically appear to me. It's just...good old fashioned faith, I guess. Maybe they're there, and totally real, just existing in some other dimension, or maybe they're just a part of the collective unconscious that helps me work things out. It never really mattered quite that much to me either way.''

* * *

><p>They stayed there for several more hours to observe a ritual in the backyard that involved a lot of invoking of power within a circle of people. Everyone was very friendly, and the air was pleasantly crisp without being too cold. The natural setting seemed to lend a kind of energy of it's own, a quiet, listening aura. As the High Priestess, Prudence's mother had a very commanding presence. When Selene drew down the moon, Darcy could feel a kind of palpable electricity in the air, rather invigorating tingles of something trailing fingers along her body. There was definitely some sort of energy being channelled and released, it fluttered outward, moving over the ground. Then it was over.<p>

All in all, it had been a very educational evening. After the ritual was complete and the others had departed, Selene patiently and helpfully explained all of the important aspects, like how to cast a circle and then close it, how to invoke the presence of deities respectfully, the significance of the different objects on the altar. Darcy and Loki were both given an open invitation to return any time, but as they departed Selene gave Darcy a hug and whispered 'please remember what I told you,' and when she pulled away there was a very worried look in her eyes; she stood by the front gate and watched them until they were out of sight.

Later, once they were home again, Darcy flipped through some of the books that Prudence had let her borrow. Loki had been very quiet during the whole visit, silently observing everything. ''That was interesting,'' she noted, taking a sip of wine.

''Yes,'' he admitted honestly.''It was. But something tells me that it's not going to do a damn bit of good to prepare us for what we're going to find when we get out there.''

''Yeah, I kinda started to get that vibe too. I asked Selene about the Restored Ones, and she got real weird and told me that I should stay away from them.''

''Well, what did you expect?'' Loki shrugged. ''We wouldn't be investigating these people if all they were doing was saying ''merry meet and merry part'' and holding hands under the moon.''

''No, I guess not,'' Darcy replied. She closed the book, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. It had been a very long day and her mind felt full to bursting with new information. But at least she'd been sufficiently distracted from the unpleasant feeling that started squeezing at her spleen every time she thought about Jane's hurtful words the previous evening.

She looked over at Loki. ''You _really_ look good in those jeans,'' Darcy noted, her tongue darting out to run along her bottom lip. He smirked, reaching over and pulling a book from the stack. '' 'Tantric Sex Magick','' he read the title out loud. ''You know, I don't think that this is exactly relevant to our assignment.''

''It's extracurricular,'' she admitted.

Loki sat down beside her on the couch. A warm smile crept over his features. ''I couldn't stop staring at you all night,'' he said. ''I'm always...so proud of you.''

She smiled. ''I'm proud of you too. I'm proud of _us_.'' Darcy reached over and held his hand, lacing her fingers through his, never ceasing to marvel at how small her hand was compared to his. She leaned against him, feeling warm, still able to see the moon when she finally closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>Darcy hadn't really had a dream that she could remember since their first journey to Asgard, and that was fine with her. Inky, dreamless sleep was peaceful. Now she found herself walking out in an open field. There were woods on either side of her, and up ahead there was a large tree. She could hear singing.<em> ''Oh dear, what can the matter be? Oh dear, what can the matter be, Johnny's so long at the fair...'' <em>The sky was very overcast, menacing clouds collecting in the distance. The singing continued. Curious, Darcy moved closer until she could see a little girl standing a few feet from the tree. She wore an old-fashioned looking gray dress and red patent leather shoes that buckled. She didn't say anything or turn around as Darcy approached, just kept singing. Then, abruptly, she stopped and turned.

''They are coming,'' she whispered, no fear in her eyes, just a strange calm. She sounded very old for a child, eerily wise and matter of fact. ''And when they come for you, you'll be sorry.''


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey loves! Here is another chapter for you-it's a little bit shorter, because it's transitional. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>There were always questions. To exchange one set for another is no great matter.<em>

** -Tom Stoppard **

Darcy woke up the next morning in a state of mild agitation. Her dream the previous evening hadn't been so much frightening as annoyingly vague. Loki was still asleep beside her and so she quietly slid out of bed and threw on some yoga pants and a shirt. After getting a pot of coffee brewing, she pulled out the spiral notebook that she had bought for her 'homework' and wrote down the date and then: '_dream,' 'tree,' spooky little girl,' 'Johnny's so long at the fair,' _and the final warning, _'they are coming.'_ Darcy was remarkably unperturbed by this. The Norns had given her far more dire prophecies and visions. 'Why can't I ever have a _normal_ dream,' she grumbled to herself. 'Like maybe one where my teeth are falling out, or I'm naked in a class that I never registered for. God forbid, maybe toss a yummy sex dream in there once in a while?'

She poured a cup of the coffee, thinking. A memory now itched at her brain. Before they'd left Paris, Helen had mentioned a 'strange tree, far off in the field.' It was one of those coincidences that seemed to crop up like weeds in her life, the kind that often turned out to be anything but. Darcy went back over and underlined the word 'tree', reminding herself to check back on that bit later.

After doing her daily yoga and getting a shower, she dried her hair and then, while glancing wistfully at the closet, decided to try something. Darcy knew that she didn't have anything close to Loki's ability to shapeshift, but she could work very basic glamours and change certain elements of her appearance, like her clothes for example. She'd done it a few times on Asgard, but hadn't really practiced it too much after their move to Paris. Perhaps she'd always considered it somewhat of a lazy talent—used when she simply couldn't be bothered picking out clothes or if there was a special occasion that warranted specific attire.

Today there was no special occasion, she simply was curious and a little tired of her current wardrobe. Focusing her mind until she could feel tingles of energy collecting on her skin, Darcy formed an exact picture of what she wanted to create, the appearance and the feel of the fabric on her body. Before, she'd created very basic outfits—like on Asgard when she'd conjured up a black bodysuit. But that was easy, it was all one color and all the same fabric. Now she decided on something just a little more intricate—a silky, rather low-cut form fitting top in a deep, forest-green fabric and a pair of black pants. Once she had them perfectly envisioned in her mind, Darcy released the energy with a bolt of thought—a kind of mental _abracadabra—_and there came a brief fluttering sensation, a shimmer of light flickered over her body and then she stood back in front of the mirror and admired her handiwork. ''Not bad,'' she murmured, turning. It wasn't utterly and completely what she'd imagined, but it was definitely close enough.

''Not bad at all,'' came a low voice from behind her as Loki appeared, shirtless and messy-haired.

''Should I maybe like...make a disguise for this assignment?'' Darcy wondered. He shook his head. ''No. I wouldn't bother. You'd be wasting too much energy trying to maintain the illusion, it would be unnecessary. Save your strength.'' He put a hand on her shoulder. ''Just be observant at first. See what the situation calls for, if anything.'' After studying her a moment with his burning green gaze, Loki said, ''I must say, you did an excellent job with this,'' he smoothed a hand slowly down her arm, over the fabric. ''Good detail,'' he added, sounding impressed. ''And I like the colour.''

''I had a feeling you might,'' she admitted.

* * *

><p>They had to dedicate the rest of the day to a very intense study session. Luckily, she'd had more than a few of them in college due to her tendency to procrastinate. Books, pens, notebooks, a laptop, and lots of coffee were essentials, so Darcy set to collecting all of these things and setting them up on the table.<p>

''Did you go to school?'' she asked Loki as she retrieved several highlighters from the bottom of a drawer. He looked up from the binder he was leafing through, his supposed dissertation. ''What?''

''Did you go to school when you were a kid? What do they do for education on Asgard?''

''Thor and I were both tutored in the palace when we were children,'' he replied. ''After awhile it became obvious that he didn't care much for books and that his talents lay elsewhere. So once he had completed a satisfactory amount of coursework, he began to spend more time outdoors with other pursuits and I continued to study, both on my own and with a teacher. Frigga also gave me extra instruction in magic, knowing that I had a natural aptitude for it.''

Darcy was struck with a sudden image of Loki, looking younger, sitting by a window in the palace library, long limbs sprawled out, surrounded by books. All alone. The image was so vivid that Darcy wondered if maybe she'd picked it up from his mind rather than imagined it. Either way, it was a nice picture, just somehow inexplicably sad. Maybe it was the heavy feeling of loneliness that seemed to drench it all.

''What about you?'' he asked her.

''What _about _me?'' Darcy shrugged, pulling the cap off of a highlighter and scribbling on a sheet of paper, the barely-there weak slash of colour indicating that it had long since dried out. ''I went to high school, then I went to college, same as a lot of people. I had no idea what I wanted to do. I guess that's why I took the internship with Jane. Aha!'' she added triumphantly, finally locating a marker that worked and joining Loki at the table.

''And as you say, the rest is history,'' he finished for her with a small smile.

''Yeah. Speaking of history...'' Darcy gave a little groan as she opened the binder containing 'Lucy O'Neal's' thesis. ''Hey, you know we're supposed to be married for this thing, right? So, what's our story in regards to that? Where did we meet and stuff?''

Loki was quiet for a moment, a very thoughtful look flickering over his features as he considered the question. Then he slowly began, ''We met at university when you were in your first year of graduate school and I was finishing my doctoral program. It was October. I was walking across the campus when I passed by the coffee shop where you liked to study. I'd seen you around before, but never got a chance to talk to you. I saw you through the window, just sitting there by yourself and I decided to go in and say hello. We got to talking and learned that we were both interested in many of the same subjects and we decided to meet again.'' Loki folded his hands, looked satisfied with this narrative.

Darcy nodded. ''Ok. I dig it. But I would have had it so that you were my thesis advisor, and after many sexually tense nights in your office spent discussing the occult we finally gave in to our impulses and you had your way with me on top of your desk.'' She smiled, widely and devilishly, seeming very pleased with the images conjured into her mind. ''It was mahogany.''

Loki gave her an approving glance. ''Hmmm. That does sound like us. Fine—that's how it _actually_ happened. But we tell people my version.''

''Fair enough,'' she agreed, still smiling.

''Stop thinking about the desk or we'll never get anything done.''

''Ok, ok.''

* * *

><p>After about half an hour Darcy leaned back in her chair and sighed deeply. ''Ugggh, I need more coffee.'' She looked over at Loki. ''How's yours going?'' He seemed to be deeply engrossed in the reading, was already more than halfway through. ''What's your necromancer-magic like?''<p>

His eyes glanced up from the page to meet hers. ''That's only a portion of it. The material isn't overly dissimilar to some of the magic that I was taught on Asgard. Perhaps there's more pageantry involved—it's more elaborate and requires very specific tools and such. It's also very reliant on precise incantations—speech and language in particular are very important elements.'' Loki paused. ''They always did say that I had a silver tongue.''

''I would not disagree,'' Darcy mumbled, her skin briefly flushing at the memory of all the ways that tongue had been put to good use.

''The writing is a little dry, in my opinion,'' he continued. ''But it is well-researched. What about you, _Lucy_?''

''Mine's ok. It mentions the early Norse pagans a little. I guess it's kind've a survey of different early cultures and their beliefs...what they had in common as far as some kind of organized practice. There's just a lot of them.'' Darcy felt abruptly tired and frustrated.

''You don't have to _memorize_ it,'' Loki told her gently. ''Nobody is going to quiz you on anything. Just get a general feeling for the subject matter. Remember, this is supposed to be something that you're passionate about. Make it seem...organic.''

''Mmmm...organic.'' Darcy rested her chin on her hand and gaze imploringly across the table at him. ''I'm so hungry, can't we take a break and have some Thai food and sex?''

''I don't quite understand your train of thought, but I like where it's going.'' He shut the book firmly.

* * *

><p>She did have every intention of going back and reading more later, but every time she thought about it her head started to ache. The day was beginning its slide into evening, and the wind had picked up a bit; the world outside was mildly chilly and menacing, so Darcy was particularly happy that she was warm and in bed, glad that she'd just taken part in some rather vigorous activity which had left her sufficiently heated. Noticing something on the floor, she stretched and leaned over the side of the bed, picking up the volume that Loki had been studying and flipped it open to reveal pages containing information on 'magickal alphabets.' ''Oooh, fancy letters,'' she whispered, tracing her fingers over the odd script. ''The Theban alphabet...Enochian...'' There were so many different types, including the runes with which she was already very familiar.<p>

Loki sat up and watched Darcy as she read, the way her eyes lit up. ''You do seem to have an aptitude for certain _types_ of languages,'' he ventured. ''Just certainly not any of the more common ones. Come to think of it, how is it that you could talk to Helen? Your French is atrocious.''

Darcy paused in her reading for a moment, looked up at him. ''Helen doesn't speak French. She's English. Like from England. She talks with an accent.''

''I wonder how she came to be there. I'm sure it was all a very depressing story.'' He reached over and plucked the book from her hands. ''No more fancy letters for you right now.'' Loki wrapped an arm around her waist. ''I'm getting terribly lonely over here,'' he breathed into her ear.

* * *

><p>They were a couple of slackers, she decided, but that was alright. They <em>were<em> very good at improvising. Still, there were more than a few butterflies in her stomach as she thought about the assignment that was creeping closer and closer. Darcy had never done anything like this before. Sure, she'd saved the world a little bit and defeated three power-hungry beings who were trying to build the equivalent of a mythical doll-house but that had basically been an accident. Nobody had told her and Loki to do that, they'd decided it on their own, mainly to avoid being trapped for an eternity. This was different. A scary government organization had chosen them both specifically for this mission. And Darcy was secretly terrified that she wouldn't be any good at it.

Loki wasn't worried about their mission at all. He did admit to being ever so slightly intrigued—something that he hadn't expected—but generally he simply wanted to get it over with so that they could leave again. If anything had him at all uneasy, it was the way that Darcy seemed to be reacting to everything. She was so nervous and conflicted, though she tried to hide it. On some level, Loki knew that the real reason she had decided to come back had nothing at all to do with the macabre collective out in Connecticut, and everything to do with closure. He'd watched her, all those walks she took in the Paris cemetery. He knew that she was trying to deal with all of the changes that she had experienced, her new abilities and more so, her new very long life-span. Whether Darcy even understood it herself or not, she'd come back to say goodbye to her friends.

After this was over, once they left, their visits would be fewer and far between as the years wore on, becoming irrelevant to them as they remained unchanged in a changing world. He knew also that eventually they would have to leave Midgard altogether for some time, because it would simply grow too painful for her to remain and watch everyone that she had known succumb to age and die. These were hard things to process, especially for someone who had once been human. Darcy would have a strange kind of survivor's guilt for years. But, thankfully, Loki was good at distracting her. And when the time came he'd drag her all over the universe to keep her busy if he had to, until the inevitable day when she would finally forget at last.

Now that studying had apparently been abandoned for the day in favour of other pursuits, when they finally got out of bed again Darcy had decided that she wanted to watch a scary movie. Perhaps the general tone of the assignment had gotten her in the mood. Regardless, this was fine with Loki. Whenever they watched a scary movie, Darcy would get very cuddly and then eventually wind up crawling into his lap at some point. Loki found these films to be rather ridiculous, but he definitely wasn't complaining about the result. She chose a movie called _The Fourth Kind, _about creatures from outer space who seemed to favour abducting people from a remote Alaskan town. He, of course, quickly deemed the whole thing completely nonsensical. ''Why would you even bother making a film that pretends to be based on fake footage?'' Loki wondered aloud. Darcy was apparently too busy being frightened out of her wits to answer, her eyes had grown buggy with terror and she'd practically attached herself to him like a barnacle with limbs. ''You know this is nonsense, right?'' he nodded at the screen.

''How do _you_ know?'' she hissed back. ''People come here from different worlds all the time. In fact, this is all probably _very_ plausible.'' She shivered.

Loki gave her an exasperated look. ''Nobody from any other world comes here and snatches up random and unimportant Midgardians simply to experiment on them a bit and then drop them back with no real viable memory of the event. It's counterproductive.''

Darcy reached over and pushed 'pause.' ''Not if they want to use us like lab rats.''

He sighed. ''I'm sure if they've been at it for this long, they've learned all they need to know. You're not a remarkably complex people. Infuriating sometimes, yes, but ultimately fairly simple to figure out. If they'd found anything at all useful during these abductions and experiments and what-not, then they merely would have enslaved you all long ago. Yes love, there are visitors from other worlds. But they don't behave that way. Not all that sneaking around. Trust me, if they want to get you, you'll know it. And you'll _certainly_ remember it.''

Strangely enough, this did make her feel slightly better. At least until she pushed 'play' again. After about five seconds, the film was turned off. ''Ok, that's enough for tonight,'' Darcy said, getting up abruptly. ''Time for bed.''

* * *

><p>Loki was awakened some hours later in the darkness to find Darcy wrapped around him, apparently greatly distressed by something.<p>

''Oh, what is it?'' he demanded.

''I woke up and I looked at the time,'' she held up her cell phone with a shaking hand. It glowed, cast them both in a ghostly bluish light.

''I see, what _about_ it?''

She whimpered a little. ''It's the time that it was in the movie when everyone would get abducted. Oh my god, they're gonna come for me too!'' Darcy trembled, holding Loki so tightly that he was nearly strangled. ''They're gonna all come trooping in here speaking Sumerian and then it'll all be over.''

''Sumerian?''

She nodded vigorously. ''Yes, that's what they _speak_, weren't you paying attention?'' Darcy was close to tears.

''Oh, for...'' Loki disentangled himself from her clutches enough to sit up. He called out several phrases in a very eerie, gutteral-sounding language, then made a show of listening to the resulting silence for a response. ''There,'' he said, satisfied. He reached over and patted her on the bottom. ''No Sumerians here. Now go back to sleep. We have to meet with _that woman_ in the morning, and I want to be alert.''

''Fine,'' Darcy muttered, feeling a little silly, but still tingling from the adrenaline jolt that accompanies waking up terrified in the middle of the night. ''How do you know how to speak Sumerian?''

''You're the anthropologist,'' he mumbled around a yawn as he drifted back to sleep. ''You tell me.''

**SHIELD**

''On Thursday morning, you two leave for Connecticut,'' Natasha told them. ''We finalized the details via email. You will check in with me periodically, letting me know how things are going. We will also be keeping an eye on you from a distance. If you become compromised or if at any point I feel that you should not continue, I will pull you both from this assignment and you are to comply, do you understand?''

They both nodded. ''Very good. I just wanted to make that clear since you both have a tendency to go off-book.'' She gave Loki and Darcy a stern glance. ''You are to gather as much information as possible about their practices, including but not limited to enough evidence to link the Restored Ones to the discovered bodies. Loki, you're good at getting inside people's heads—I want you to focus specifically on the leader, this Lugh Retnick. Try to formulate some kind of psychological profile. See what exactly makes him tick—he's the key to all this.''

''All right,'' he agreed.

''Are you both comfortable with your cover stories?'' the Black Widow asked.

''Yes,'' Loki said at the same time that Darcy muttered ''I think so.''

Natasha sighed. ''I have the utmost faith in you both. I don't know _why, _but I'm sure that you will do fine. But just remember, don't get too deep into anything. See you both early Thursday morning for a final briefing.''

As they left the building and walked out into the daylight, sun briefly caught on Darcy's hand, making something shine.

''You still wear that ring,'' Loki noticed softly, looking at the intricate gold band on her finger, the one that Heid had given her. ''Of course,'' Darcy replied. ''It's good luck. Got us out of some sticky situations. I have a feeling that we're going to be facing some pretty dark stuff out there so I'm collecting as many good vibes as I can.''

''Do you remember the defensive spells that I taught you?'' he asked.

She nodded. ''I'm just hoping that I don't have to use any of them.''

''I hope not as well, and I don't think that you will, but it's always good to be prepared.''

Darcy looked back over her shoulder at the entrance to the building, thinking of Jane. She hadn't spoken to the scientist since their rather unpleasant conversation at Stark Tower. ''Do you think that maybe I should…'' she began tentatively.

''I don't think that you should say goodbye-or anything else, for that matter-to anyone until you're ready to. We're not leaving _yet_,'' said Loki, the statement carrying extra weight. ''Not today.'' He took Darcy's hand and led her gently away.


	4. Chapter 4

_You must never run from anything immortal. It attracts their attention._

**-Peter S. Beagle**

**Thursday**

''Why are you dressed like that?'' Darcy asked Loki as they drove. A sign welcomed them to the state of Connecticut. He was back in the dark, elegant clothes that she had once dismissed as 'too evil CEO.' Darcy had to admit, though, it was a look that he could definitely rock, all neat and icy edges.

''Just trust me,'' he said. ''I've been at this game a lot longer.''

She gave a shrug in reply, stared down at her own clothes. She wanted to appear as a serious academic, but also not stuffy, so she'd chosen a knee-length skirt, long-sleeved shirt and jacket. One of her younger female professors in college had worn something similar much of the time, and it seemed to work.

Darcy looked out the window as she drove, observed the scenery which had been gradually changing as they left the city, falling away to open fields and trees, miles of wooded areas. The sun ducked behind clusters of gray clouds and then emerged again. The day couldn't seem to decide what it wanted to be. According to the GPS, they would be arriving some time within the next forty minutes. She took a sip of the coffee in the cup holder next to her, tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Darcy was actually quite grateful for the opportunity to drive, she didn't often get a chance but it helped to clear her head just a little. If she'd merely been a passenger, she would be even more anxious.

''Don't be nervous,'' Loki told her, noticing her telltale twitchiness. ''Why don't you pretend that we're just going away for a long weekend?''

She gave him a crooked sideways glance. ''Yeah, just a nice stay at a cozy little B&B...where they practice the dark arts and _murder_ people. Lovely little place, perfect for a weekend getaway.''

''Well, I suppose it all depends on what you're into,'' he retorted with a shrug. ''That might be some people's idea of a grand time.'' Now he grinned at Darcy and she smiled back, albeit reluctantly. ''I'm really _trying_ not to be nervous,'' she admitted. ''But it's hard. I keep telling myself that I'm brave, that I've faced down some incredibly creepy things before but...'' Darcy trailed off a moment, then continued. ''This is different. Before, we were just figuring stuff out as we went along, we didn't know what was going on and so we acted almost completely on instinct. There weren't any pre-determined roles, it wasn't an assignment, it was just...life. It was what was happening to us at the time.''

''And so is this,'' Loki pointed out. ''All of this is still _life_, and we _don't_ know what's going on, that's the whole point. Don't go in with preconceived expectations, either about what these people are going to be like, or about how Lucy O'Neal is supposed to seem to them. Let it all unfold naturally, act on instinct, just like you said.'' They fell into companionable silence for awhile, until her heart began to beat a little faster as she looked at the GPS and realized that they were very nearly at their destination. A few more miles of trees flew past and then they turned onto a winding road that seemed to be leading to a private residence.

At the end of the long drive loomed a towering stone mansion surrounded by beautiful landscaping. ''Wow,'' Darcy breathed, and her stomach turned over in a flip. A little shakily, she parked the car, took a deep breath to steady herself.

''You could hide a lot on land this big,'' she noted as she gazed out the window almost in a daze, adding softly, ''This is so not what I was expecting.''

''Not enough hemp fabric and Birkenstocks for you?'' he joked.

''I think I'm going to be bad at this,'' whispered Darcy as she stared up at the looming house. She suddenly regretted agreeing to the assignment at all, wanted to be back in Paris covered in paint.

''No, love, you're a natural,'' Loki told her with reassuring firmness. ''You'll be fine. It's just like one of your little games.''

She smiled weakly in response. ''Well, not just like. But I get it. Ok.'' She took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. As they walked up the stone pathway, the front door opened.

The man who greeted them was tall and well-groomed, appeared to be in his late thirties,with sharp blue eyes and coldly handsome features. Darcy recognised him from the picture in the files Natasha had sent her back in Paris. He too, was dressed very nicely, as if he worked at a law firm rather than as a 'spiritual leader.' There was a distinct roughness to him, though, behind the impeccably manicured exterior.

''Welcome,'' he said politely, extending a hand. ''You must be Lucy and William O'Neal.'' The man smiled. ''My name is Lugh Retnick. Please come inside. I'll have someone come and get your bags.'' He spoke with a faint accent, one that Darcy couldn't exactly place. Probably English, maybe Scottish. It had been worn down over the years but was still there. As their host led them both through the elegant foyer, Darcy couldn't help but let out a little gasp at the opulent interior of the house, with its rich polished woodwork and floors, the antique furniture.

''I suppose you expected some sort of muddy, commune-type farm where nobody shaves,'' Retnick offered in a mildly amused tone, noticing the look of surprise on her face.

''This house is nearly two hundred years old. It sits on over fifteen acres of land. This is the main building where we spend most of our time. There are several others, guesthouses and stables. Feel free to explore, this property is good for long walks, however do be careful, it can be easy to get lost.'' He smiled at them. ''I'm so very grateful for your interest in our ideas. I hope that your stay with us will be very enlightening. I regret that our numbers have dwindled somewhat of late.'' The man gave a great sigh, shook his head. ''You know how people are these days. So flighty. No attention spans whatsoever. Ours is a system that requires the utmost dedication. It isn't for everyone. Only the very special. Let me introduce you.'' He pushed open a door to reveal a sitting room with very large windows.

''This is Cloud,'' Retnick said, pointing to the window seat, where a rail-thin, waif-like young woman with choppy black hair was perched, looking through a book. Hearing them approach, she straightened up, her movements nearly bird-like. ''Cloud, we have visitors. This is William and Lucy.'' The girl angled her pale face and grinned ever so slightly. In another life, she might have been very pretty. She had wide, grey eyes and sharp cheekbones. When she smiled, her teeth were mangled, stained and crooked. Darcy noted that the white skin of her bare arms was absolutely covered in scars, some light and pale, some deep and raised, standing out in sharp relief. Inwardly, Darcy gasped a little, hoping her eyes didn't betray any shock. The mutilated girl, Cloud, closed her book and got to her feet.

''Pleased to meet you,'' she said, and grinned again. A figure passed by the door.

''Ah, Jason!'' Retnick called to a young man, probably around Darcy's age. He was gangly and thin and rather awkward looking, with acne scars and floppy blond hair and a nose that was slightly too large for his face. At the sound of Retnick's voice, he hurried eagerly into the room, reminding Darcy of a stray puppy. ''Lucy and William, this is Jason. He's shown quite a bit of promise here.'' The boy smiled, clearly delighted with the praise, and he reached out and shook both of their hands. Loki noticed that his fingers stayed awhile longer on Darcy's hand, though, that his eyes lingered on her appreciatively.

They were next introduced to a very tall and excitable woman named Penelope who had a long, thin face and dark hair. The woman had interesting features but wasn't exactly pretty, there was a not-small amount of gawkiness to her that seemed to rob her of any overt attractiveness. She gave them a delighted look, her large eyes darting between Loki and Darcy as if she couldn't decide who to stare at longer. She seemed oddly enraptured with both of them.

''I'll have your things taken to your room,'' Retnick said. ''Penelope will show you where it is later. For now, why don't you get acquainted with the property, take a walk. From four to six we have a lull, time for quiet introspection, meditation, reading. Then we all sit down to dinner. Afterwards, we have our nightly Circle, which is at the core of everything that we do here. I'm sure that you will find it very interesting. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to prepare some materials.'' With one last polite smile, he turned and departed down the hallway.

''It's so wonderful to meet you both,'' Penelope told them, her voice airy with breathless excitement. ''You will absolutely love it here.''

''I'm sure we will,'' replied Loki, adding ''You...certainly seem to.''

The tall woman beamed at him. ''Oh, yes. I was so lost before I came here. I always knew that I was special, meant for something more. And then I met Retnick. He opened my eyes to my potential, my destiny.'' Her eyes shone.

''And...what exactly is your...destiny?'' Darcy asked in what she hoped was a friendly and conversational tone, as if they were discussing the weather.

A laugh bubbled out of Penelope. ''To be Restored. To become united with the one who chooses me. It hasn't happened yet...'' her face fell just a little, then picked itself up into a smile once again, ''but I know it will be_ soon_. I can feel it. I can hear him calling to me, right before I fall asleep.''

''Oh,'' said Darcy, not really sure how to respond to that.

''I have to get my books ready,'' Penelope said. ''But I'll come back and find you in a little while and take you to your room.'' She gave them another wide, delighted smile and then trotted away down the hall. Darcy turned her head back toward the study to see that Cloud was now peering out around the doorway, observing them. When she caught Darcy's eye, she shrank back almost bashfully and disappeared.

Though the inside of the house was very interesting and definitely warranted a little more exploration, all of the fresh air and natural beauty outside was calling to her, so Darcy took a walk around, stretching her legs. The day was cool but not overly chilly, and she was comfortable in her skirt and jacket. There was a heaviness to the air, though, as if it were old and dense with memory and secrets. A breeze rustled the leaves on the trees, it tossed her hair. For some reason, her gaze was drawn over to the right, where a small path was worn down, leading into the woods. Walking gave Darcy time to think and process their arrival. The place was absolutely beautiful, yet she could already tell that there was something amok, the energy was off. The members that they'd been introduced to were perhaps more or less what she thought they might be. They seemed like misfits, seekers, desperately wanting to feel special, to have a place to belong. There _was_ something incredibly strange about Lugh Retnick, though, and meeting him face to face only confirmed the feeling that Darcy had gotten while looking at his picture in the case files, a distinct otherworldliness. And he had seemed also as if he were so much older than he actually appeared, like he was pulled from a time past.

Loki walked out onto the back porch, looking for Darcy. He spotted her out over by the stone fence that ran along one edge of the property, her dark hair lifting in the breeze, her skirt blowing around her legs as she walked. It was a pretty sight. He loved watching her when she didn't know that he was there. Apparently, someone else did too. With deep disdain, Loki looked over and noticed that Jason was standing at the opposite end of the porch, also staring at her. The god's hands clenched reflexively into fists, a sudden rush of scalding anger overcame him. The acuteness of the emotion took him almost by surprise. He shouldn't feel so _threatened_, he reasoned, this was a whelp, a young man of no consequence, possessing no power at all. Still, Loki had to will himself to put on a calm facade, forcing pleasantness onto his features as he walked over to Jason. The boy managed to drag his eyes away from Darcy when he saw that he wasn't alone. ''Oh, hi William,'' he said, seeming ever so slightly embarrassed, and also very faintly annoyed.

''Hello, Jason.'' Loki kept his voice friendly. ''I see you've found Lucy. I was just looking for her.''

''She's...lovely,'' the young man replied, nodding towards Darcy, who seemed now to be staring very intently at a corner of the wooded area.

'That's _my wife_,' he wanted to say. But he simply said, ''Yes, she is,'' and gave the other man a very cold, very brittle smile. ''And how long have you been here?'' Loki asked, changing the subject.

''About five months now.'' Jason shifted on his feet. ''I'd dropped out of college and I needed some direction. I met Retnick literally the day that I moved off of campus. I'd always been interested in spiritualism, I knew that there was more out there than I could ever learn in school I was meant for something better. And he showed me the path to Restoration.''

''I hope to learn much about this process,'' Loki told him in a cool tone that he hoped was sincere enough. He ran his hand along the railing of the porch. ''I too have spent many years with that same feeling. I know that there is a great destiny waiting for me, just beyond my reach.''

''Does Lucy feel that way too?'' Jason wondered, swallowing hard, his eyes briefly darting out to find her again.

''Oh, yes. And I know that Lucy has a great purpose as well.'' The god of mischief smiled, showed his teeth. Let hints of ice climb into his voice just at the edges now, showing that slight hint of danger just enough to get the point across that he was not someone to be fucked with.

Darcy headed back as dark clouds overtook the sky, threatening rain. She hurried into the house just as the first few drops began to fall. ''There you are,'' Penelope sing-songed, seemingly appearing out of nowhere in a blur of weird excitement. She grabbed Darcy by the arm, smiling. ''And you too!'' she called, seeing that Loki had just entered the room, having come in from the porch. ''Let me show you were you'll be staying. It's almost four. Time to rest,'' she breathed, leading them along until they reached a tall, winding staircase. ''You can sleep, or you can read, or pray or meditate,'' Penelope said as she practically dragged Darcy along with her up the stairs. Loki followed them, suppressing the urge to laugh.

''This is one of my favourite rooms,'' the tall woman announced as she led them down the hall off to the left of the top of the staircase. ''It's got a great view.'' She giggled and ran her fingers along Darcy's arm as she opened a door. ''And my room's just a few doors down!''

''Uh, thanks!'' Darcy plastered a bright and appreciative expression on her face. ''It's awesome.''

''I'm sooo glad that you both are here!'' Penelope reiterated, laying a hand on both of their arms. ''I'm sure we'll get along great. I can't wait to learn all about you.''

Then she swished away down the hall. Once she was out of sight, Darcy sighed. ''She's an odd unit. I can't figure out if she's hitting on you or me half the time, or if that's just her personality.''

''I think she might be hitting on both of us,'' Loki replied, looking mildly amused. Penelope was utterly harmless, her awkward, flirtatious personality didn't bother him the way that Jason's obvious attention to Darcy did.

''Ok, this is actually a really nice room,'' she admitted as she closed the door behind them, taking note of the huge four-poster bed. She ran her hands along the bed linens, noting that they seemed rather expensive. There were a few chairs and also a small desk in the corner. Darcy went to inspect the adjoining bathroom and had to suppress a small squeal of delight at the enormous bathtub that she found there, easily large enough to fit two people. ''This place is definitely sinister,'' she admitted, ''but it is _swanky_.''

''Maybe they pamper the victims a little beforehand, like a sacrifice,'' offered Loki helpfully.

''Gee, thanks for spoiling it,'' she sighed, walking back into the bedroom. ''I was doing like you suggested earlier, pretending we were on vacation.''

He came to stand behind her, wrapped his hands around her waist, splaying his long fingers over her abdomen. ''What's gotten into you, anyhow?'' Darcy wondered breathlessly. ''I mean, not that I'm complaining or anything,'' she added as his hands now slid searchingly underneath the fabric of her shirt. It was true. Something had been smouldering behind his eyes all afternoon, barely contained. It excited her, ignited a little twinge of lust in her lower belly.

''That...boy. Jason.'' His voice tightened darkly around the name as if wanting to strangle it. ''I don't like the way he looks at you.'' Now Darcy couldn't help but let out a small cough of laughter. ''He's just a little twerp,'' she told him. ''Retnick indulges him, I think, the way he does with the others, makes him feel special.''

''I know,'' Loki said, fighting back the strange wave of possessiveness that had arisen in him. It had been strong before but now that they were alone and he had his hands on her warm, soft skin it threatened to set his blood on fire.

His cool hands cupped her breasts, eliciting a tiny gasp from her as he pinched one of her nipples. Darcy's head lolled back against his chest, she could feel his erection pressing against her lower back. Hot tension flared beneath her skin, a sudden acute jolt of blinding need. She wished that he'd take her right there, up against the wall, drag up her skirt and thrust inside of her. The abrupt strength of her desire was nearly dizzying. ''Nobody is ever going to take me away from you,'' she whispered. ''Nobody ever could.''

Loki smiled at her reassuring words as he felt her heart pounding under his fingertips. ''How should we rest? Do you want to sleep, or maybe _meditate_,'' as he spoke he leaned down and kissed along the side of her neck, grazing her skin lightly with his teeth, pressing down just enough to make her suppress a moan.

''You seriously want to do this now? _Here_?'' Darcy was quickly pulled back to the reality of the situation, she remembered where they were.

''Why not?'' he asked. ''It's our room. I'm not going to stop wanting you just because we have to put up with this weird lot. You know that.''

''Yeah,'' she admitted. If anything, the nervous adrenaline of actually being there after being so apprehensive actually enhanced her desire. Having him there with her, their working together, that was more than a little hot. Seeing Loki in action was always very attractive. ''Ok,'' agreed Darcy, turning to bring her mouth against his. ''_Meditation_ it is.''

* * *

><p>Dinner was served at six in the dining room at a long wooden table which seemed almost dauntingly large for only six people. It was still raining just a little, she could hear the sound of it tapping against the intricate stained-glass windows. Darcy made a note to herself to get a closer look at those later. They were fascinating, depicting what she knew to be certain scenes from various world mythologies, and also some that she didn't recognize. Retnick sat at the end of the table, Darcy and Loki were seated beside each other, across from Cloud, Jason, and Penelope.<p>

Plates of food were brought out by what Darcy assumed to be kitchen staff. The three women were all young, probably in their twenties, with blond hair and blue eyes, dressed identically in black. They looked so very similar that she wondered if they might be triplets. They said absolutely nothing as they worked to set out plates of food and pour wine, their eyes barely even registered a real awareness of where they were. It almost seemed as if they were sleepwalking. Then the three disappeared back into the kitchen once their task was completed. Darcy knew that there were housekeeping and groundskeeping staff on the premises, but she hadn't yet actually met any of them. Retnick never bothered to introduce them, or really overtly acknowledge their presence at all, it seemed. The leader sat back in his large chair and surveyed the group at the table before him. Then he looked directly at Loki and Darcy.

''We are so grateful that you both have decided to come and stay with us for a little while,'' he began. ''There is a good deal of...misconception about what we do here, and it is ever so nice to have educated and open-minded people like yourselves show an interest.''

''This is a very...lovely place that you have,'' said Darcy politely, toying with the fork in her hand.

''Thank you, I have always tried to ensure that it was. We can all grow and learn so much better in a pleasant and comfortable environment. We regret that one of our members has recently left us. Z had potential but was ever so reluctant. She was chosen for Restoration but decided that it was not the path she wanted. It was a shame.'' Retnick shook his head almost sadly. ''Such a waste.''

Across the table, Darcy noticed that a vicious scowl had overtaken Cloud's features. She looked as though she desperately wanted to say something, but was forcing herself to be silent. Clutching her dinner knife in her hand, she dug it into the edge of the plate, her knuckles nearly white. Penelope simply looked annoyed at the mention of 'Z' and her potential, or perhaps maybe jealous. Darcy made a mental note to casually speak to both of them about this later. She wondered what 'recently left us' actually meant, if perhaps Z was one of the bodies that was discovered in the woods.

Now Loki spoke up. ''I was hoping that, in your own words, you might explain some of your teachings to Lucy and I. We're both quite interested in your concept of Restoration.'' He looked at the man at the end of the table imploringly.

''You will certainly gain a full understanding of it during your stay here, but for now I will tell you this: some of us were meant to be _more_.'' Retnick gestured to the group seated before him. ''Our bodies were meant to be used as vessels, to contain unimaginable power and to be transformed by that power. Our purpose now is to prepare, to make ourselves ready to be Chosen.''

Darcy now had to ask, ''What happens when you're...Chosen?''

''Then your body and mind will begin to ready itself to join with the one who selects you as a vessel,'' came Retnick's response. Penelope nearly swooned at the description.

''Why do they select you?'' Darcy pressed. _And just who the hell are they?_ She added silently.

''Too long have we been separated from our potential. We are naked, empty souls trembling helplessly like leaves. We need desperately to be filled,'' Retnick explained, and Penelope nodded in hopeful agreement.

While alarmingly poetic, this all still seemed rather vague to Darcy, and she was certain that it was done purposefully. He wanted to rope them in, so he was only going to give out teasers, naturally he wouldn't divulge any real secrets on the first night.

After dinner was finished, the three odd, blonde women reappeared to collect the dishes as the rest of them stood and were led by Retnick out of the dining room and down the hall to a large wooden door that seemed to be slightly worn down more than the others. The leader pulled a large brass key out of his pocket and opened it. The room that was revealed when he did so looked to be some sort of study or library. But like the door, Darcy noticed, the interior also seemed older and more neglected than the rest of the house, not quite so polished. There were large bookshelves along the wall, but no windows. Along the wooden floor, a circle had been drawn in chalk. They all filed in, stood around it.

''What if one of you is chosen?'' Penelope asked Loki and Darcy. A small shiver of apprehension-or perhaps delight, it was hard to tell with her-made the woman tremble from head to toe. Darcy opened her mouth to say something but Retnick cut in. ''I don't think that will be happening, Penelope,'' he said smoothly. ''Lucy and William are just here to observe us. Let's focus on tonight's circle.''

''Where's Cloud?'' wondered Jason. A brief, nearly imperceptible look of annoyance flickered over Retnick's face and then was gone. Darcy glanced around and noticed that this was true, the strange girl had seemingly vanished after dinner. ''Cloud isn't feeling well, and so I've given her permission to miss tonight's Circle,'' he explained in an even tone, pulling a large and very old looking tome with leather binding from a stand in the corner. ''Now that's enough talk. Let us focus and begin.''

Loki took Darcy's hand, she felt a sudden pulse of energy move through her, and she realized that he had cast a protective spell over them both, a kind of shield to block them from whatever might be summoned within the circle. And it did indeed seem as though things had been called forth, Loki realized, the whole room reeked of a dark unpleasantness, was drenched in a residual sliminess, an energetic ectoplasm of sorts. Staring down at the chalk circle on the floor, Darcy was momentarily knocked breathless by a double vision so intense that it felt like being hit in the head with a brick. Grateful for the spell, she gave his fingers a squeeze and took a deep breath.

Retnick opened the book and began to read in a language that Darcy didn't understand. It didn't sound like anything she'd ever heard before. Loki, however, seemed to be slightly familiar with it, he stood listening with a very intense look of concentration on his face. When the leader reached certain portions of the text, the others chanted a kind of refrain. It seemed that though they had apparently repeated this many times before, they too were ignorant as to the exact translation, they were simply saying what they had been taught to say. Penelope had her eyes shut as she chanted fervently, as did Jason.

There came a sudden palpable shift in the surrounding energy, like a swiftly falling barometer. A wind began to blow around the room, strange and cold. A coppery smell came with it, almost like blood. Then she saw it. On the floor, inside the chalk circle, something had begun to happen. A ghostly fog collected itself, moving counterclockwise in a whirling motion. The chanting continued, Retnick stared intently down into the circle as he read, eyes burning. Then out of the ring of fog there came dark, finger-like tentacles reaching, straggling up out of some abyss. Darcy's eyes grew wide as she tried desperately not to scream. She, Loki, and Retnick, it seemed, were the only people in the room who could actually _see_ the creature manifesting itself. The protection spell around them held firm, but Darcy couldn't help but suppress a shudder as the shadowy spectre slid up out of the circle and and slithered past her feet, making a wet, sucking, snuffling noise as if it were sniffing something out. Then it came to pause by Penelope's feet. The woman couldn't see what had come for her, but apparently she could feel something, and she moved forward ever so slightly as one of the tentacles wrapped around her leg.

The woman seemed to _really_ be feeling something now, her eyes opened wide and she let out a little gasp as the shadowy fingers continued to slither possessively around her leg, climbing higher, stretching until the creature was nearly completely out of the portal, drawn up to its full height. The dark mass wrapped itself around Penelope in a devouring, repulsive embrace. She began to shake and moan, overcome with tremors. Then her cries reached a fever pitch and the creature retreated, slinking back down and vanishing.

Penelope was now lying on the floor, her face uncomfortably ecstatic. The chanting ceased, the ceremony was apparently over. Retnick smiled down proudly at her prone form. ''Penelope has been selected for Restoration,'' he announced.

Once the woman could stand, they all filed out of the room, not bothering to close the circle. Retnick simply scattered what looked like a coat of dust over it and then shut the door, locking it with the key. ''_But wait_!'' Darcy wanted to say, looking back over her shoulder. She remembered Selene teaching her about the importance of always closing a ritual circle. Then she realized that this was most definitely intentional, Retnick knew exactly what he was doing: leaving an open door to some very dark places.

Jason was helping Penelope to walk. The tall woman still seemed to be in some sort of daze. Her head lolled to one side, her eyes half closed. But she was smiling, smiling as if her greatest wish had just been fulfilled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey loves! Thank you for all of your reviews and follows, I'm so psyched that you guys like this story so far! Here is the next chapter for you, please let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p><em>Everything dies, baby, that's a fact<em>

_But maybe everything that dies_

_Someday comes back_

**-Bruce Springsteen**

* * *

><p>Darcy was shaking when she and Loki returned to their room after the Circle. ''What the hell was that?'' she ground out once she could speak.<p>

''That...is apparently what goes on here,'' Loki answered, a grim and flat expression on his face.

''Be more specific, please!'' she demanded, as her stomach heaved at the memory of what she'd seen.

''The circle. It's a portal, obviously. It opens and then...''

''Things just come crawling out.'' Darcy shuddered, sitting down on the bed. ''Penelope...she...she looked...'' A blush crept over her face. ''She looked like she was...enjoying that.''

Loki gave a dismissive shake of his head as he came to join her. ''She had no idea what was actually touching her. It was pure sensation.'' He did have to agree, though, that it had been quite the unsettling display.

''Apparently she's been wanting 'Restoration' for a long time,'' remarked Darcy, thinking of how excited Penelope had seemed by the concept, how she had said that it would be soon. How she could hear something calling to her at night.

''I'm not surprised. She seems like a very needy and lonely person.''

''Everyone here does.'' Darcy paused in thought, then said, ''Retnick could see that thing too. What exactly was he saying, what was that chanting? You seemed to have some idea, you were listening pretty hard.''

''I could only understand part of it,'' answered Loki honestly. ''It was a kind of invocation, he was calling to whatever might be listening. It seemed...there's a kind of energetic exchange being promised. I think that I definitely do need to find out more about Retnick, what his game is. He's the one who opened the portal.''

''He shifts. I saw it,'' Darcy told him.

Loki nodded. ''I'm not surprised, what with the way he seems to be ripping into different dimensions left and right. I can smell power. _Unnatural, _ill-gotten power. He reeks of it. He seeks to gain something from these so-called Restorations, though I'm not sure what it is.''

Silence fell over the elegant room.

Darcy was very tired, but the events of the day made her head whirl so that she found herself much too wired to sleep well. It reminded her of her first night on Asgard, after she'd gotten her unpleasant introduction to the Norns. Then a soft, warm smile crept around her mouth as she remembered what else had happened that night. She curled closer to Loki, fitted her body against his on the bed. ''We're going to be ok, right?'' she asked, trembling just a little. This had definitely not been anything like what she'd expected, and it did frighten her. Suddenly Paris and even New York were seeming farther and farther away.

''Of course we are,'' he replied, smoothing his hands down over her back. ''I'll admit that this is quite disturbing, but so are many things that we've experienced. What we need to do now is simply wait and watch how it unfolds.'' He spoke in an even, reassuring tone. ''In the morning, you try to talk to Penelope. See if she can give you any clear insight as to what's happening to her. I also think that we should try to get some information out of the little girl, Cloud. I can tell that there's something she wants to say.''

''Ok,'' agreed Darcy. Loki's voice was helping to lull her to sleep, the way it always did. Her eyelids were mercifully beginning to droop. But there was something that she needed to hear, all of a sudden.

''Tell me-'' she began softly.

Before she could even finish the request, he pulled her even closer and whispered, ''You're safe now, I'm here.''

**Friday**

There were two Circles per day, Darcy learned, one in the morning and one at night. The morning Circle didn't seem to include much summoning, in fact it seemed to be more of a strange therapy group. And it was _early_, at seven am. Apparently the Restored Ones were a bunch of early risers, or at least some of them were. Cloud didn't seem overly delighted to be out of bed, her hair was a mess and she curled her tiny body inward as she sat on the floor, dragging her sweatshirt over her knees. Jason seemed more awake, and eager, as he always was. For this circle, they thankfully didn't meet in the musty space with the chalk on the floor, rather they gathered in a room with what seemed to be a disproportionate amount of mirrors on the walls, almost like a dance studio.

There wasn't any coffee yet, so Darcy tried in vain to fight her grogginess. Eventually, she rested her head on Loki's shoulder and kept it there so that all her energy could be focused merely on keeping her eyes open.

''We pray to be selected for Restoration,'' Retnick began. The leader certainly seemed wide awake, invigorated even. Darcy made a mental note of this—she tended not to trust morning people. There was definitely something a little wonky about anyone who was chipper before 11 am. ''Our dear Penelope was chosen just last night during the circle.'' He beamed at her. ''And on the next new moon, in less than three days, she shall be Restored.'' Penelope smiled a pale smile that seemed to lack some of her typical enthusiasm, vacant. She looked as if she were smiling in her sleep.

''Now,'' he said, in a brisk, clear tone,''today I want to discuss the feeling of loneliness. I know that all of us have felt lonely at one time or another, some more than most. And it can be a terrible thing. But here we need not feel this way. Here, we wait for the time when we will never again have to experience this sensation, because we are on the path to Restoration, willing vessels waiting to be Chosen. Penelope, do you feel lonely anymore?''

The woman shook her head, the movement oddly listless. ''No.''

''That is because she is not alone, she will never be alone again.'' Retnick gave a pause. ''And why, some have asked, do they choose us as vessels? What do they need _us_ for? The concept of a god stealing away a mortal is a very ancient one, a common theme in mythology, actually. Humans have an appeal because we are capable of so much, yet live so briefly. We need to be saved from this...lack of time. A cursed race of beings, that's what we are. That is what we must accept. This acceptance is the very first step on the path to Restoration. The more we understand the depth of our brokenness, our emptiness—the more we understand our _need-_only then can we finally sense our true potential. It does not have to be this way! We need not succumb to our human curse. And the ones who choose us? They do so because they are very lonely. Because we can give them the home that they desperately need—a temple within our very own bodies. Constant, unceasing devotion. Love. What we all deserve.''

* * *

><p>After the circle disbanded, they all filed into the dining room and were served breakfast by the same three women as the night before. Darcy looked closely at the one who set a plate down in front of her, noticed that the pupils in her pale blue eyes were tiny little pinpoints, even though there didn't seem to be a tremendous amount of light in the room. One of the others carried a carafe of coffee and when she bent to fill the cup, her eyes looked the same way.<p>

Afterward, she and Loki went in separate directions; he was going to do some exploring of the house while she was going to try to get any information that she could out of some of the other members, particularly Penelope. Darcy made a point to speak to her alone, catching her in the hallway.

The tall woman had started to look rather odd. A weird film almost perpetually glazed over her eyes and it gave the impression that she was constantly gazing into some abyss, one that had already found her, had taken up residence inside of her body. A strange, dark fluid bubbled and oozed out of the corners of her mouth. Almost robotically, she pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped it away.

''Are you alright?'' Darcy asked her. She fervently hoped that her expression didn't show any overt disgust. The woman smiled, a revolting sight as her teeth were now stained nearly black.

''Soon I go to join him,'' Penelope said. Her head was cocked at a strange angle. Her tone of voice was different too, there was a depth and thickness to it that hadn't been there before.

''Join who?''

''He will restore me.''

Darcy tried again. ''Penelope, what exactly _is_ Restoration? Can you describe it to me in your own terms, maybe?'' There had been no clear answer yet to this question from Retnick, so she hoped that the woman might be able to give her some insight, particularly now.

''It is when we become pure vessels, when our chosen joins fully with us and we are one. Finally.''

More puppetry, more repetition. Trying to hide her exasperation and disappointment at the utter lack of any concrete information, Darcy gently asked, ''Are you feeling alright, though? You look...sick.'' Sick was a polite term for how the woman looked.

''I feel wonderful. I can feel him all around me, inside me, preparing me. I never want him to leave me,'' Penelope spoke rapturously.

''Why? He...he might not be what you think he is,'' Darcy ventured in a careful tone.

''I know what he is better than anyone,'' she replied obstinately, blinking her odd, milky eyes. ''He has chosen me to know him thus. Me in all the world. It is a privilege.'' More dark fluid dripped from the edges of her lips now as she spoke.

''I don't want to be alone anymore, and neither does he. He has promised to fill me, to consume me so that we will be one forever. And I shall no longer be empty and wanting.'' Something in her eyes, in her tone, made Darcy shiver.

* * *

><p>After her strange and disappointing conversation with Penelope, Darcy ventured outside and noticed Cloud walking in the yard, over by the stone fence. ''Hey!'' she called, hurrying over to her. The girl looked up, seeming like a startled rabbit. Then she offered a thin smile. ''Hi, Lucy,'' she said.<p>

''Do you mind if I take a walk with you? It's so nice right now...'' She looked up at the brightness of the day. ''But they said there's going to be rain later so...''

''Sure,'' Cloud replied. Darcy walked beside her in silence for a few minutes, then asked, ''So, do you like it here?''

There wasn't any answer at first. Then she replied, ''Yes,'' however the word was spoken very tentatively, and Darcy knew immediately that she was lying.

''What made you decide to come out here?''

''My friend and I had just gotten out of the hospital. I got out first, I was in a day program.'' Cloud tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. ''But when Z got discharged she called me and said that she'd met this guy, and he had answers. And a place to stay. She asked me if I'd go with her. So I said yes. It seemed better than staying where I was.''

''How old are you?'' Darcy asked softly.

''Almost nineteen,'' replied Cloud. ''Z was a few years older. We both aged out of the system. It's hard.'' She stared down at her feet, her dark hair slid across her eyes. ''It's really hard. Anyways, so we get up here and at first Z is all gung-ho and excited, leans on Retnick's every word. Then things started to change a little, after the first few weeks.''

''Why? What happened?''

''Z decided that she didn't like it here. She wanted to leave,'' explained Cloud, her thin, scarred arms swinging as she walked.

''Why?'' asked Darcy.

Cloud paused, leaned against the stone wall and stared into the woods as she spoke. ''She said that things had started to call to her at night. First they whispered, then they screamed, getting closer and closer until it was all she could hear. She couldn't get away.''

This was very interesting. ''So...not everyone here wants to be Restored?''

The girl abruptly started walking again. ''I didn't say that. I think I shouldn't say anything more, right now.'' She blinked rapidly.

''All right...that's fine,'' Darcy said in a soothing voice, as if she were trying to calm a startled horse. ''Why don't we just keep walking and you can show me some more of the land.''

Cloud seemed to relax a bit, the restless twitchiness in the corners of her eyes eased. ''Ok,'' she agreed. They walked together until they reached the place that Darcy had noticed before, the worn, narrow path leading into the woods. ''Where does that go?'' she asked, nodding over at it.

''It doesn't go anywhere,'' the girl mumbled, her expression growing tense once again. She fumbled around in her pockets until she pulled out a cigarette. Once again, Darcy knew instantly that she was lying. Even without extra strong perceptive abilities, she would still have known this—Cloud had absolutely no poker face, her every movement was a tell. She decided to let the subject drop for now, instead decided to try and see if perhaps the scarred young girl could offer any true insight into Restoration.

''What exactly does Retnick teach you guys?'' she asked. ''I'm still a little fuzzy on it.''

''Well, first off, he teaches us that there are other worlds out there. Like, other dimensions with people and stuff in them. Hundreds of them or more.'' Cloud paused for a moment to light her cigarette. ''And sometimes, certain people can reach through and communicate with the other worlds. Even bring things through. See, he says that at one point, it wasn't like that. Everything was together, in the same space. That was the way it was supposed to be. And we—humans-were originally supposed to live forever. But then something happened, and we were cut off from that place, and from our immortality. We were left here and cursed to live a short, weak life and then die. But Retnick discovered a way to Restore us—some of us—to our full immortality.''

This sounded like utter bullshit to Darcy. ''And this immortality is achieved through...becoming a vessel for...the things on the other side?''

Cloud nodded. ''Yes. Some of the things, anyway. The gods. And they have to choose you.''

''Why exactly do you call them '_gods_'?'' Darcy wondered, trying not to let any exasperation creep into her voice. ''Have you actually _seen_ any of the things that come through to choose people?''

She swallowed hard. ''I don't know another word for them. They're not spirits. They're not demons. They're_ more_.'' Smoke clustered around her head like a halo, then dissipated.

''So...you've met spirits and demons?''

The girl bobbed her head in a nod.''Retnick teaches us the very basics of how to conjure, but we're not allowed to do it. Only he can summon, during the Circle. But we're encouraged to read and explore. He's got lots and lots of interesting books about demonology, angels, ghosts...those aren't the things he's worried about. He calls them 'small fish'. I've seen one or two show up. They can be annoying. They snicker in the corners, hiss at you, pull your hair, knock things over. But that's if you let them out. They're a pain to throw back in.''

The sun shone now with an almost mocking brightness, cold and mean.

Cloud laughed, a rough laugh, and continued. ''Oh, spirits, yes—spirits you can run from, shake off. It's exhausting, but you can do it, and through training and patience, you can become adept. Gods, on the other hand...'' she trailed off, with a birdlike shake of her head, her thin frame overtaken by a sudden tremor. ''You can't outrun them. You can't shake them off. They are so much bigger and more powerful than you can imagine, and if they want you, they'll _have_ you. Sometimes, it can be a very beneficial relationship, or so I've been told. Other times, not so much. It really depends on what you're dealing with.'' She took another drag of her cigarette and crossed her thin arms, stilling.

Now Darcy had to ask another question. ''The...the...entity that bothered your friend Z...was it a spirit or a god?''

''I couldn't really say,'' offered Cloud with a heavy shrug, never moving her eyes, still staring across to the path leading into the woods. ''But it was strong, whatever it was.''

The sky darkened slightly again now, it seemed as though that promised rain would soon arrive. Cloud went back into the house to read, but Darcy wanted to stay outside for just a little while longer. The fresh air helped her think, and she needed to do quite a bit of mental processing. As she walked around the side of the house, she heard a rustling behind her. She whirled around and saw a man standing there quietly by the rhododendrons, wearing a pair of gardening gloves. He smiled at her.

''Ah, Miss Lucy, curious little Lucy,'' the man said. ''Just like in that children's story. I wouldn't go opening too many doors around here, though.'' He chuckled. Darcy noticed that the stranger spoke with an accent, similar to Retnick's. He was short and slight, with longish unkempt hair and features that were probably best described as elvin. He also had something wrong with one of his eyes, she saw, the eyelid perpetually drooped, giving the impression that he was half asleep. Darcy was also suddenly willing to bet that this man also looked far younger than he actually was.

''Are you the gardener?'' she asked, looking at the gloves on his hands.

''Something like that,'' he replied, the curious and crooked smile never leaving his face.

''How did you know my name?'' Darcy wondered with a raised eyebrow. ''I haven't met any off the staff yet. I mean, I've seen some of them, but...''

''The girls from the kitchen? Pretty maids all in a row? They aren't very talkative, I'm afraid. You aren't likely to meet too many of us, Retnick likes it when we're rarely seen and never heard.'' He chuckled again. ''But I've never been too good about following orders, me.'' Pulling off one of his gloves, he extended a hand. ''I'm Ethan Montauk. And I know—because I was told that you'd be arriving with your husband—that you are Lucy O'Neal. And if I might say, it is a pleasure to have someone so lovely around this place.''

Darcy shook his hand. ''It's nice to meet you too,'' she replied. Ethan seemed a little odd, but there was nothing about him that screamed danger and darkness the way that Retnick did. If anything, he just seemed rather sad underneath the Cheshire Cat grin. Ethan looked up at the sky. ''Rain today,'' he remarked. ''Probably soon. You should be getting back inside now.''

As she turned to leave, she could hear him start to hum something, a tune that was strangely familiar. _Oh dear, what can the matter be? Johnny's so long at the fair._

* * *

><p>After taking a long walk through the entire mansion, which really was immense, Loki wandered into the study to see that Cloud was once again perched by the window, deeply engrossed in a large book. She didn't look up when she heard him come in but she said, ''I took a walk with your wife. She's nice.'' A page turned with a crisp flutter.<p>

''She is, yes.'' He moved further into the room now. ''How did you know it was me?''

Now she looked up at him. ''Your footsteps sound different than the others.''

He let this pass, though he wondered about it. ''What are you reading?''

The girl pushed a strand of wild dark hair out of her face. ''Just a book on Sumerian creation myth.''

''The Sumerians certainly are _popular _nowadays, aren't they?''

''People are interested in old and mysterious things,'' Cloud replied, wrapping her oversized hoodie more tightly around her bony shoulders. The air had grown a bit chillier, there was definitely bad weather on the horizon once again. ''They were from the cradle of civilization, right? The supposed beginning of everything. That's intriguing.''

''Well, they may have been at the beginning of everything, but they're certainly not here now,'' Loki said as he inspected some of the titles on the bookshelf. ''I don't quite understand this fascination with the peoples of antiquity...broken stones and statues.''

''I can totally understand it,'' answered Cloud, giving him an oddly sympathetic look from beneath her jagged bangs. ''And I know Lucy can, too. I loved her thesis. I must have read it at least three times. I was so excited when I heard that you guys were coming. She's so much younger and prettier than I expected her to be—she's only a few years older than me.'' The girl's shoulders drooped and she turned another page in the book.

He could sense a powerful sadness in Cloud, a kind of longing to be sure—but not the sort that Penelope felt. It was of the more human variety, a desire for simply _life_, not the strange promises of a mad conjurer. ''You seem like you have a real love of learning and reading,'' Loki said gently. ''Why don't you go to school the way that Lucy did and study the same things? That might serve you better than sitting in this place day after day waiting to be chosen.''

''I've thought about it...but...'' she trailed off, looked out the window. ''I don't think that's going to happen.'' Her voice was suddenly very heavy and resigned, as if a dark cloak was being pulled over the words. ''I think that I'm next to be chosen. I just...I just have this feeling. It's already too late.''

* * *

><p>''Well, Cloud is certainly a fan of yours,'' Loki remarked to Darcy later that evening as he sat on the bed reading. He held up Lucy O'Neal's thesis. ''She said that she read this three times.''<p>

''She's such a sad girl,'' Darcy replied. ''I don't think that she wants to be here. I think she's scared, actually, too scared to leave. I think that Retnick may have threatened her or something. You know that girl Z that he mentioned? That was Cloud's friend, they came here together. And she said that Z also wanted to leave, because things had started to call to her at night. Apparently this is the first stage of being Chosen.''

''I'm trying to understand the dynamic that's operating here, but it's definitely convoluted. It seems almost as though Restoration isn't so much something that is wanted as something that is thrust upon these people. And some of them are so desperate that they look the other way, develop a sort of cognitive dissonance until they believe that they actually desire it.''

''Well, Penelope totally drank the Kool-Aid,'' said Darcy with a shudder. ''She's still going on like this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to her. Have you _seen_ her?''

''Unfortunately, yes.'' Loki made a face. ''She looks ghastly. Whatever was conjured forth in that circle, it definitely has a hold on her. She's more of a host for a parasite than a vessel, that thing seems to be devouring her from the inside out.''

''If this is what she's like after only a day, what the hell is going to happen on Sunday night when she has her full-on Restoration? Is she going to wind up buried somewhere out in the woods like the others?''

Shaking his head, Loki answered, ''Something tells me no. I don't think that everyone who goes through this process winds up dead—I think that those were just unfortunate mistakes. Perhaps their human bodies simply couldn't hold whatever was trying to use them, and they died during the final ritual that Retnick performs. Like we said, it happens in stages. First, you're chosen, then whatever chooses you starts to prepare your body as a vessel, then during the final stage...I think that if your body holds, the god or spirit or whatever simply wears you round like a skin. That may be what 'Restoration' really is.''

* * *

><p>''Cloud and I were having a rather interesting discussion today,'' Loki began. They were all once again gathered in the dining room for dinner. Retnick raised his eyebrows. ''Oh really?'' he said lightly, giving the girl a curious look. She ducked her head a little, picked at a piece of bread on her plate, slowly tearing it apart. ''Please enlighten us.''<p>

''I noticed that she happened to be reading a book on Sumerian myths. And I remarked that I didn't understand the human fascination with ancient civilizations.''

''Oh but surely you do, on some level,'' Retnick gave an amused chuckle, leaned back in his chair. ''As a scholar you must realize the merits of looking to the past.''

''I think that it's worth a glance but certainly not meant to be used as a guidebook of sorts—see here is where Lucy and I disagree.'' Loki gestured to Darcy and she immediately picked up on the cue to play along with whatever he was doing. ''She is, obviously, always looking back, further and further, trying to find truth there, a truth that can be brought forward into the present to enlighten or enhance. I say that we can never actually understand the context of what we find in the past, because we weren't there. The world is so utterly and vastly different now that anything we might find simply won't fit here. It won't do us any good.''

''But it makes us ask questions,'' Darcy blurted. ''And from those questions, we continue to learn and advance. Why? Why? It's always _why—_human beings constantly want answers. And often those answers can't be found here. We've already used up all of our present available resources and still we are...lacking, somehow. We're missing a piece of the puzzle—we're missing lots of pieces, in fact. And sure, these cultures and civilizations are gone now, but they left something behind, all of them, even if it's something small. A myth, a story, a...piece of stone with carving in it, whatever. Maybe staying only in the present and disregarding the past gets us further and further away from answers because we're always moving farther away from the beginning with each passing moment.''

''What makes you think that there were answers at the beginning, though?'' Loki asked. Darcy was aware of everyone at the table now watching them as they locked into this debate. She felt weirdly exhilarated by it, she had forgotten that she was pretending. ''What if the first people were just asking questions the same as anyone else? And there was nothing to find, and nobody there to ask. Just lonely people. Lonely earth, lonely sky.''

A silent pause fell over the room and everything went still until Retnick said, ''I think that this brings us back nicely to the discussion that we were having this morning. We desire answers, but we cannot find them as we are now.''

''Because we're cursed?'' asked Loki, giving the man a cold look.

''Yes,'' he replied with a slow nod. ''Because we are cursed.''


	6. Chapter 6

_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved_

_In secret, between the shadow and the soul_

**-Pablo Neruda**

**Saturday**

Some nights, Darcy was to learn, nothing happened during a Circle. The chanting didn't always summon something, and this apparent failure would leave Retnick looking pale and drawn, which was what had occurred the previous evening. A thick aura of apprehension now cloaked the house. It seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for something. The weekend brought a colder chill to the air—spring had already arrived but they hadn't yet had too many warm days, winter seemed to be wanting to malinger this year. Still, Darcy had become quite fond of walking outside; it was something about the trees here, she decided, the trees and the land in general. The nature demonstrated a kind of awareness, as if it had been watching for a long time and had collected many secrets. In particular, she couldn't seem to stop thinking about the path which led into the woods.

After breakfast, she toyed with the idea of going out there to do a little inspecting, yet some small tendril of hesitation clutched at her arm and so she decided to put it off for just a little while. It was supposed to warm up if not later in the day, then definitely by Sunday, so she would have a chance to go exploring soon. She decided instead to walk through the house itself—she hadn't really seen all of it yet, just the areas where the group tended to spend the most of its time.

Darcy went around with her phone, taking pictures of the more interesting features of the mansion. The doorways were intriguing. Each one was different in a very subtle way if you looked closely enough. These variations might have been something as simple as a different shade or type of wood. None of the doorknobs were ever identical, and sometimes the frames contained a kind of pattern, or marking that the others didn't. Darcy wondered about the history of the house and land itself; Retnick had mentioned that it was over two hundred years old. Anything that old was bound to have many, many stories to tell.

She walked by the door to the room where she and Loki were staying and looked up to see that, neatly carved into the wood, which appeared to be oak, was a neat carving of the moon transitioning through its various phases. Darcy wondered if there was some sort of astrological component to the Restorations. Retnick had mentioned that Penelope's would take place during the new moon, on Sunday night. It might simply have been a coincidence, or perhaps the energy of this particular time lent something to the ritual.

Suddenly, overcome with a chill along her skin, Darcy knew she wasn't alone. She turned to see the little girl from her dream standing there, wearing that same grey dress and red shoes. The child looked at her quietly, then said ''It eats moonlight.'' Heart slamming in her chest, Darcy closed her eyes and then when she opened them she was alone again.

Sucking in a deep breath to calm her rattling nerves, she quickly hurried out of that particular hallway and back to the main staircase again. Darcy_ knew_ that she hadn't been hallucinating. Whoever this child was, she was connected to whatever had been going on in the house, and her spirit clearly had something that it wanted to say.

As she descended the stairs she was struck by a remarkable feeling that made her pause and simply stand there. It was the recognition of an empty space, calling out. Darcy was suddenly, powerfully aware that inside of her there were hollow places. They cried, those hollow places. And then came a crushing desire for one thing, the only thing that could make it better.

At the same moment, Loki was standing in the room with the mirrors on the walls when he felt himself become charged with a weird, burning energy. It made him want—no, _need_ to touch Darcy, to pull her as close as he possibly could, to restore some balance. The need crashed through him like a migraine attack, a feeling of terrible panic lingering at the edges of the desire and he hurried away from his own reflection and towards wherever she was. Because he felt as if he couldn't have her that he would go insane.

They met somewhere near the bottom of the stairwell, drawn to each other through the throbbing air, the sudden heat that hung all around like the first few moments before a storm. She couldn't remember which one of them reached the other first but then she was being spun around and he was pulling her along back up the stairs, and she was racing after him with eager footsteps. The opening of a door made of oak, with moon phases carved into the frame above it. A flurry of motion, limbs pulling out of clothing, then the delight of bare skin meeting, cool against warm.

''Will we die at the same time?'' Darcy asked in a whisper as Loki brushed her hair to the side and began to kiss her neck.

''Why do you think that?'' he breathed against her skin as his lips trailed upwards to close over her earlobe.

A soft tremor ran through her.''We're so connected, our minds...everything. It's almost like I don't know who I am without you. If you weren't there, suddenly, I feel like I would just stop existing.''

Loki understood this. Too well. Only it wasn't simply a fear of not existing. It was a fear of existing in endless torment. ''I don't want to think about these things now. I don't want us to think. I just...need to feel.''

''Kiss me,'' she said, and he did, the motion of his lips at first slow and lingering, then deeper and more seeking as his body melded with hers.

''Look at me,'' he begged. ''Open your eyes, keep them open. Watch what's happening.'' As he spoke he slid slowly out of her and then back in again, stroking back and forth, the sight unbearably arousing to Darcy as she did as he asked and opened her eyes.

She started to come undone; he was about to follow and so Loki pressed his fingertips against her head. This was something that they had been experimenting with—he had discovered that he could extend her orgasm for...well, until she couldn't take it anymore.

The feeling started deep in the core of her, bloomed outwards feverishly, again and again, wave after wave of it, unceasing. The pleasure would crest but not taper off, simply dragged her along onto another plane of sensation. Darcy began to cry when she reached that place, her skin flushed and trembling, soft. He brought his hand away from her head and it receded, returning her to herself, to the ordinary world where they were forced to exist separately, to feel those empty spaces, at least for awhile.

* * *

><p><strong>A Few Hours Later<strong>

Penelope didn't say much now, her skin was turning a strange, grayish color and the film over her eyes was growing thicker. When she did speak, there was a heavy, hissing edge to her voice, her black-stained tongue would dart out to lick her parched lips. She was sitting on the edge of one of the chairs in the study, perched there as if she might need to leap up at any moment. Darcy and Loki sat a few feet away from her, but the tall woman gave no sign that she was aware of their presence at all. Very discreetly, Darcy managed to snap a few quick pictures with her phone. She'd been trying to document each strange occurrence, and also attempting to view Penelope with an objective and almost scientific detachment, but it was incredibly difficult to not be rattled. Obviously, there was no way to record any footage of what went on inside the room with the chalk circle, but Darcy assumed that the results of whatever had occurred would speak for themselves. The trouble was that so far she and Loki hadn't gotten anything specific to link Lugh Retnick or any of the others to the discovered bodies, nor was there any hard evidence that anyone was being held there against their will—at least not physically. Everyone seemed to be emotionally dependent on their leader and what he promised, which was the 'normal' cult dynamic, if such a thing existed. Except, strangely enough, for Cloud. She was arguably the most damaged of all of them, yet she was the only one who seemed to show any indication that she was troubled by what was going on, the only one who didn't adore Retnick. The only one who was afraid of Restoration. Yet even Cloud seemed to see Penelope's altered state in a weary and fatalistic way. She'd probably watched the same thing happen to her friend Z, Darcy realized, and her heart panged again for the sad young woman.

_''Is this even technically a cult?''_ she asked Loki._ ''I mean, what does Retnick really want from these people?'' _After the energetic high of their lovemaking, they found it almost easier to communicate this way, and it gave them the added benefit of being able to carry on a conversation about someone that they were in the same room with. Though it probably wouldn't have mattered if they had spoken aloud, the person sitting on the edge of the chair was now little more than a shell.

Loki could see that Penelope's aura was dwindling, growing more and more faint as her life force became eclipsed by whatever was inside of her. But that energy was going somewhere, as if it was being pulled out slowly, strands at a time. Someone else was collecting her life force, not the creature. The creature was simply taking over and filling in the empty spaces as they were left behind. The incantation being chanted the other night during the circle—Loki hadn't been able to get a perfect translation, but as he'd told Darcy, there was an exchange being created. One part in particular had stood out clearly: Retnick had said _'I offer these Vessels if they be willing, and consume the spark of their selves.'_ And then he'd asked Jason and Penelope, '_Are you willing?'_

And they had answered back their refrain: '_Yes, we are willing'_

Loki wasn't sure if they knew what they were saying, what they were actually agreeing to. But he was fairly certain that the greatest parasite was not whatever was being conjured, but the conjurer himself. ''_He wants life.''_

* * *

><p>As soon as Darcy stepped into the room with the chalk circle on the floor with the others that evening she knew that something was going to happen. It collected in the air like electricity, sending little tremors up and down her arms, pins and needles. The book was opened and the chanting began. First nothing, and then a shift in the fabric of the room. Suddenly, a small marble slowly rolled across the wooden floor, seemingly out of nowhere. It rolled around their feet, faster and faster, spinning and speeding along the chalk circle.<p>

Retnick continued to chant fervently, almost desperately, sweat shining on his face. Though he did notice the marble, his eyebrows raised ever so slightly in surprise, or perhaps bewilderment. And then that _something_ happened, abruptly. Darcy could feel a familiar presence creeping up from somewhere inside of her, taking over and pushing her consciousness to the background. This hadn't happened in so long, not since the day of their final battle with the Norns. She had hoped that it was gone forever, but it seemed that was not to be.

''Oh no,'' she thought desperately. ''_Please no, not now_!'' But the Well had never exactly been a good listener.

Her eyes went black, her body locked into a strange, rigid posture. The chanting stopped, and Loki's heart plummeted in terror as he saw what was happening, that everyone was staring; even Penelope seemed oddly intrigued, more alert.

Darcy now glared around the group with her alien eyes. The Well seemed to be angry about something, it plastered a furious expression onto her face and then began to speak, an ancient and terrible voice pushing its way out of her throat. ''_Shut the door_,'' it rasped venomously. ''_Shut the door, you fools_!'' Retnick seemed curious and yet somehow remarkably unperturbed. Just...interested, and that bothered Loki more than anything.

Then the Well abandoned its grip on Darcy and she collapsed weakly.

''What was that?'' asked Jason, his eyes wide. ''Was Lucy Chosen?''

''No,'' said Retnick slowly, closing the book. ''That was something else.'' He looked over at Loki, who met his eyes with a deadened stare as he gently helped Darcy up. She was trembling and horrified by what had happened, what had potentially been revealed. Loki was trying to decide how to proceed. He could play it off like this had never happened before, and act appropriately rattled. But some awful awareness in the other man's face let him know that Retnick sensed their deception, but to what extent, Loki couldn't be sure. So he simply said, ''I should take her to lie down,'' and then left the room with his arm tightly around Darcy's shaking shoulders.

He helped her up the long flight of stairs and into their room, a much slower ascent than they'd had earlier in the day. Darcy collapsed facedown onto the bed, pulling the covers over her face, crying. He pulled them off of her. ''None of this,'' he told her firmly.

''He _knows_,'' she said, reaching up to brush tears away from her face. ''I can already tell, he knows.''

''He doesn't know anything. All that he and the others saw was a temporary bout of spirit possession—it's probably happened before. Use this to your advantage, make the others open up to you.'' Even as he told her this, he knew it was a lie. Loki came to sit beside her sprawled form on the bed. ''Are you alright?'' he asked in a softer voice.

''Yeah,'' mumbled Darcy. ''Just worn out and dizzy. That hasn't happened in awhile. I think...I think the Well is pissed about what they're doing here.''

''Clearly,'' replied Loki. His hand trailed down and he rubbed gentle, comforting circles into her back. ''And it is curious. We still don't know exactly what the Well is or where it comes from. I mean...does it possess other people from time to time or is it something specific to you?''

She thought about it for a moment. ''I don't know...I always assumed that it had something to do with the connection of our minds. It's like when you did that, you opened some other kind of channel in me. And the Well sensed that. I think that...that maybe it's some kind of balance-restorer for the cosmos. It got angry at what the Norns were doing too—that's how it all finally ended. I feel like...like it knows me, and trusts me.''

Loki lay down next to Darcy so that they were face to face. ''You trusted_ me_ enough to let me into your mind...and your body, in more ways than one. And maybe this 'Restoration' is a kind of two-way street. Perhaps...these 'gods' crave the feel of a human. Because I didn't want to leave you either. There's nothing, nothing in this or any world that could possibly come close to the feeling of an invocation. That adoration. That love.'' He ran his hand along her cheek. ''I stole you. And I'm still too much of a bastard to be sorry.''

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday<strong>

Retnick looked up when he heard the knock on the door to his personal study, smiled almost genuinely when he saw who had come for a visit.''Ah William, please do come in. Sit down, let's chat awhile.'' He gestured to the large armchair across from the antique wooden desk that he sat behind. Loki sat, stretched out his long legs. He'd decided that it was time to do as Natasha Romanov had suggested, particularly after what had happened the night before. The two men regarded each other in silence for what seemed to be a very long time, but was really only a few seconds. Something in Retnick's eyes told the god that he was being humoured, that the leader was quite aware that he and Darcy were not who they claimed to be. So he went about beginning the conversation bluntly.

''What is it that you want? What are you trying to do?''

''Evolve,'' Lugh answered simply. He almost smiled. ''I'm sure that you can understand that. In fact, I'm sure that you can understand exactly why I do what I do.'' He stood and walked over to a small shelf in the corner, pulling out a very large and expensive looking bottle of aged Scotch and pouring it into two glasses. He handed one to Loki.

''You're trying to live forever. It's not hard to understand,'' Loki said dismissively, accepting the drink. ''And you're offering these people's lives up in exchange.''

A pause, lingering and contemplative. Light sliced jaggedly into the room, shining across the desk.

''You put it so very simplistically, so crudely. I would have thought you would be more sympathetic.'' Retnick frowned as if he were disappointed, swirled the liqueur in his glass .

''Sympathetic to what?'' Loki asked, a bit harshly.

''To the _hunger._ The hunger for someone to fill, someone to drown in. Wanting to know what it feels like to devour, to be devoured.'' He looked pointedly at Loki. ''Lucy—or whatever her real name is—she was once human. I think you know as well as I, old chap,'' said Retnick with a sigh, the vague scent of cigar smoke suddenly clouding his aura like a halo, ''if you love someone enough, you can make them live forever.''

The god gave him a cold stare, a mean chuckle hissed from between his lips.''Do you even know what you conjure through that portal?''

The other man took a long sip of his Scotch. ''All matter of lonely and terrible things. And the more lonely they are, the more hungry and powerful they become. They are drawn to humans, particularly broken ones. They can smell them from worlds away. It's not arbitrary, either, the way they choose their Vessels. I can't exactly force them to choose one of my people. But I don't have to. They're always, always starving.'' He inspected the ice cubes in his glass as he spoke, watched them melt shimmeringly in the sunlight.

''Well, regardless,'' Loki said in a laconic tone, ''word has apparently gotten out about you, that you're a dangerous madman, that everyone who comes to you winds up dead or worse. Soon you won't have any fresh meat to throw to your beasts. And that means no food for you, either.''

''They have no idea what I am. But they _are_ curious. I knew that SHIELD would eventually come knocking at my door. I just didn't expect them to send you.'' Retnick nodded as if he were impressed. ''You did catch me a bit off guard there. But I decided to simply let things unfold. If nothing else, I thought it would at least be _interesting_.''

Loki wasn't exactly sure how the man knew who they were working for, or to what extent he had gleaned their true identities, but he decided that at the moment they were already past the point in the conversation where that mattered. He nodded slowly, his body language revealing nothing, not confirming or denying. Simply moving on. ''I understand. Your numbers are dwindling, and you no longer have the sustenance that you need. You were hoping for someone strong and possibly powerful to drain the life from. To keep you sustained for a greater length of time.''

''Bigger fish, yes. I'm ever so tired of scraps.'' Lugh gave a disdainful sniff. ''The mad, the disenfranchised, the forgotten. The broken orphans. But we're all broken orphans underneath it all. Everyone is wanting and hungry. And I know...I know that they will find their way here sooner or later. They all do. They all come to stand in the circle.'' His cold blue eyes seemed to be very far away, dreamlike and rambling and tilting off of some new edge, down and down. Into the abyss inside.

''I'm sure you and your better half are both used to being coveted, but not by me,'' he added. ''You're of no use—you're already corrupted, corroded vessels.''

''What are you talking about?'' Loki asked, raising an eyebrow. ''We're not.''

The other man waved a hand dismissively in the air. ''Of course you are. Come now, old boy, I know you're not that stupid, that blind. You're vessels for_ each other_. So perfectly fitted, and so complete. A beautiful and tragic union, the stuff of myth. But I am curious,'' he leaned forward, half-smiling with the creeping curiosity of a predator. ''How did you make it work?''

''I didn't,'' replied Loki, his face once again utterly devoid of expression. He took a long sip of the drink in front of him.''It was natural selection, as the scientists say. It just...happened.''

Retnick shrugged. ''Such unions aren't _entirely_ unheard of. I'd wager that there's more than a few like her out there. But I wouldn't want to meet them. You see, after the transition from mortal to something more, eventually there comes a moment when time just…seems to stop existing at all. For you. Just for you. You realise that you are frozen, but everything else still moves at the pace it has always known.'' He held up his glass of Scotch, the light shone through it. ''For me that moment came after the first fifty years of remaining unchanged. I watched most of the young men I had fought with become weak old men. As I stayed exactly the same. That's the hard pill to swallow. Watching that ever-present organic decay, insidiously working. You can almost smell death everywhere. And there is no longer any reason to mark the days, to measure them in any way. It can make you ever so lonely.''

''If you want to live forever, or your approximation of forever at least, then why not simply become a Vessel yourself?'' wondered Loki, as he tried to take note of everything that had just been revealed in the man's statement. He'd admitted to being at _least_ more than eighty years old, and apparently a soldier at some point. He'd been at this game for quite a long time, who knew how many victims he'd accumulated across the years.

Retnick sneered in distaste. ''And end up drooling black sludge everywhere? No, thank you. This method works fine for the time being.''

Loki wondered why Retnick was opening up to him this way. He hadn't counted on this honest a dialogue, he had expected more evasiveness. The other man's candor was perplexing. It seemed that they were two acquaintances having a conversation and a glass of Scotch in the fading hours of the afternoon.

''This all has to be taking a terrible toll on you, this maintaining of your immortality. Having to reach into deeper and darker places each time to broker your deals,'' he ventured.

The man stared quietly out of the window where the setting sun was burning apart the sky in a bonfire of orange and gold.''We are willing to take chances for the things that we want,'' he answered vacantly. ''We focus on that hunger, not on the potential consequences. There must have been a terrible moment of fear and doubt in your mind when you chose her. But you couldn't help yourself, could you?''

Now Retnick was beginning to remind Loki of Skuld. He recalled a similar statement that she had made once, in a time that seemed now like a dream. And he was truly sick of power-hungry creatures implying that what he had done was some kind of sin, that he was a monster for not being able to help wanting Darcy. His voice was rather tight and bitter when he said, ''Not that you really need to know any of this, but what happened to Lucy was purely accidental. I used certain abilities that I possess to link her mind to mine because it was either that or lose her. The rest of her...transformation, as I told you, was random. I didn't make it happen.''

A light smile crept around the corners of Retnick's mouth. ''But you _desired_ it. You would never have taken so great a step if you didn't. And tell me...once you connected to her, once you felt her that closely...you knew that you could never let her go. I understand that. We are brothers, you and I.''

''I already have one brother I'm not fond of,'' Loki said easily, though he was trying very hard to ignore the truth in the other man's words. ''Two just might be overkill.''

He laughed.''Well, then at least we are comrades in _will_. A will that not everyone can understand. I'm not doing this merely for myself.'' A pause. The leader's posture grew stooped for a moment. ''Do you have any idea what you would become without her, old boy?'' he added with a rough chuckle. ''You'd positively make me look like a saint.''

Loki recalled how just hours before he had felt just the tiniest brush of the madness that would be possible if Darcy was taken from he said, in a quiet voice: ''She asked me if we would die at the same time.''

''For your sakes, I hope that you do,'' replied Retnick. He raised his glass. ''To love.''


	7. Chapter 7

_The woods around it have it-it is theirs._

_ All animals are smothered in their lairs._

_ I am too absent-spirited to count; _

_The loneliness includes me unawares_

-**Robert Frost**

**Sunday, 3pm**

Loki had gone off to speak to Retnick privately, so Darcy tried to continue on with her explorations undaunted, even though she was still very anxious about what had happened the night before. She forced her mind onto the task at hand, pulling out her notebook and writing down her vision of the little girl. ''_It eats moonlight_,'' that was what she had said. Thankfully, Darcy didn't have to worry about anyone seeing the contents of her notebook or her phone, Loki had put a cloaking spell on both of them. As she walked by the parlor, she saw that Penelope and Jason were sitting inside.

Penelope seemed to be having a hard time walking, that was the latest creepy development in her transformation. She'd often simply drop down onto all fours and crouch there, staring around. Jason had apparently taken on the role of protector, caring for her as if she were some sort of strange pet. He sat her down on one of the chairs and had begun brushing her hair, pausing every so often to wipe the black liquid away from her lips. ''Don't you look lovely,'' he cooed at her. ''Aren't you so happy, Penny? You're so lucky...''

Darcy suppressed a shudder at the odd scene and kept moving down the hall until she reached the study where Cloud could typically be found sitting and reading at this time of the day. Sure enough, she was there, curled up on the window seat, looking smaller, like a child, silhouetted against the sunlight that was pouring through the window.

''Hey Cloud, can I ask you something real quick?'' She walked into the room and sat down beside her on the cushioned seat.

The girl's head popped up from the book she was reading. ''Sure,'' she replied. Darcy noticed that Cloud looked a little paler than usual, more drawn, as if she hadn't been sleeping well. ''Z was the last person before Penelope to be chosen for Restoration, right?''

She gave a slow nod in response. ''And can you give me an approximate time frame as to when that was?'' continued Darcy.

''Almost a month ago,'' Cloud answered, ducking her head back down.

Almost a month would have meant that Z's Restoration had also taken place during a new moon. That couldn't be a coincidence. ''Ok, thanks.''

''Sure thing,'' replied the girl airily. She stared out the window, looked suddenly very far away.

''Are you feeling ok, hon?'' Darcy asked in a gentle voice. ''You look really tired.''

''I haven't been sleeping the best,'' Cloud admitted, still staring. Then she abruptly turned and looked right at Darcy. ''Are _you_ ok? I saw what happened last night.'' She cocked her head to the side, studying her.

Darcy made a show of shrugging. ''I'm ok. I'm not sure what that was...it was pretty scary.''

'It seemed to be,'' Cloud replied. She didn't say anything after that, just continued to stare. It wasn't a creepy look, just a sad and curious one.

''I think I might go for a walk,'' Darcy attempted to change the subject. ''It seems nice outside right now. Do you want to come with me?'' She figured a little fresh air and sunlight might do the girl some good.

Cloud shook her head. ''No, thanks. Not right now. I think I'm just gonna stay here for awhile.''

''Ok.'' Darcy got up to leave. As she was walking out, Cloud said, ''It might be too late to shut the door. It's been open too long. The doorway has gotten wider each time.''

* * *

><p>Darcy walked determinedly across the yard and over to the place where the path ran into the woods. As she went, she thought about Cloud's statement, the mournful tone of the young woman's voice. It made her all the more sure that she needed to find out everything that she could about what was going to happen to Penelope in just a few hours. Sucking in a deep breath, she twisted the ring on her finger, feeling comforted by its presence and then began to follow that worn path. It led her under a heavy canopy of rustling leaves, twigs and moss, darkness and shadows, brief light spilling thinly down between the branches. Everything felt very alive, aware. As if each tree had an open eye that was following her movements.<p>

Darcy's heart pounded wildly, but she continued to follow the trail of worn ground until she could see a clearing up ahead. It led to an open patch of land, a field. Several yards away there stood a great tree, huge and gnarled and ancient, waiting and listening. Beyond the tree still was another building, older than all of the others on the property, made of stone. It looked far too large to be a shed or even a cottage. Darcy wondered what was inside. A sudden mad pang of trepidation made her falter, tremble, want to run. And she did so, feeling rather cowardly but promising herself that she would return and do some further investigating soon. Once she'd emerged from the woods and reached the main yard again she slowed back to a walk, chiding herself for being so anxious. A few feet away, turning the earth in one of the small gardens, was Ethan Montauk, the strange man that she'd met the day before.

''Hello there,'' he said, looking up at her with his odd half-smile and unbalanced features. ''Nice day, isn't it? Finally a bit of sun.''

''Why is the ground so dry?'' Darcy asked, noticing that the garden now contained parched and dying flowers, flowers that had just recently been in bloom. ''There's been so much rain...''

Ethan shook his head. ''The earth is different here. It's thirstier.'' He looked over toward the woods. ''Always gets worse just before, but I've never seen it this bad.''

''Just before what?''

''Before a Restoration.''

Darcy decided that she was going to get some clear information out of someone about what was to occur, and to do that she realized that she might need to ask the question in a different way. Asking 'what is Restoration' seemed as useless as asking what the meaning of life was. ''You have been here for a long time, obviously, just watching this shit go down,'' she began. ''So tell me...is Penelope going to die tonight? What is going to happen to her? Not _why_, not _how_, but _what_. I don't want vague metaphysical drivel, I just want a direct answer.'' Darcy was absurdly proud of herself for managing to work 'drivel' into a sentence, she'd been fond of the word for some time and was always looking for a chance to use it.

Ethan gave her a very sympathetic look, and then a murky sadness overtook his features. His eyes suddenly looked like the eyes of an old man. ''Let me be very frank with you, Miss Lucy. If you have some misguided idea in your mind that you can in any way stop what is going to occur, you need to abandon it right now. This is not a matter that you have any control over. The course now simply has to be run. It is what she _wants_, you have to understand that. It's a hard concept to wrap your mind around, I know. But this was Penelope's desire.''

''Her desire was to be possessed by an other-dimensional creature with tentacles?'' Darcy raised both her eyebrows and voice in disbelief. ''Her desire was to spit black ooze everywhere? I don't understand how that could be.''

''Don't _try_ to understand,'' Ethan said gently. ''It really isn't any of your business how she feels.''

''But she's going to get hurt!'' protested Darcy.

''Maybe you see it that way. But to her perhaps the reality is very different.'' He jabbed the trowel back into the dirt, turned it again.

''How can it be different? I saw that thing! It's a _monster._''

Ethan pushed his unruly hair out of his eyes, looked up at her again with a thoughtful expression.''Perhaps it is the monsters that are most in need of love.''

Darcy wanted to stamp her feet like an unruly child. ''Nobody around here can actually _tell_ me anything!'' She hated the fact that her voice had taken on a bit of a whining tone, but she was just so frustrated.

''There's something in this place that makes you want,'' Ethan continued, ignoring her exasperation. ''Makes you _crave_.Your deepest longing is amplified.''

His words made Darcy think back to the previous afternoon, when she and Loki had so suddenly and desperately needed each other, that feeling. It hadn't really gone away, just dulled itself down a bit. But the hunger was still there, simmering in her blood, underneath her skin.

''I'm sure you know what that feels like,'' he added, looking at her closely, as if he could see it behind her eyes, burning like a flame.

''I don't know what you mean,'' she told Ethan, putting her chin in the air a little and turning away, stalking back to the house with a defeated feeling weighing down her heart.

* * *

><p>Penelope, or perhaps the thing inside of her, seemed to be very aware of the impending Restoration because her eyes kept darting excitedly towards the doors and windows. She was now sitting on the floor in the parlour, on her haunches as if ready to pounce. A kind of tension draped the air, clung to everything like a sheet. Jason seemed more and more delighted with each passing hour, as if he were getting some sort of weird vicarious thrill from Penelope's state. Cloud just looked disgusted and nervous, she was trying to lose herself in a book but every few minutes she would peek over the top at the possessed woman, then out the window, and then she'd duck back down again as if hiding. Loki was back from his talk with Retnick, and he seemed very quiet and distracted. Darcy made a note to ask him later what they had discussed.<p>

Things were different the night of a Restoration. There was no nightly Circle, and there was very little dinner because everyone was encouraged to fast and meditate on the upcoming ritual. Which they would apparently not be present for. Darcy had learned that the final phase in Restoration was something very secret and private, witnessed only by Retnick, Penelope, and whatever she was becoming the Vessel for. The late afternoon faded into a somber evening, dark hours that dragged heavily on. There was very little said. Cloud excused herself early and went to bed. Retnick headed to his office to prepare some supplies. Penelope grew more and more twitchy and restless, her eyes darting toward the door, her limbs taut as if she were ready to bolt. And then she did, very suddenly, jumping up in a swift, almost inhuman movement and running through the foyer and out the door to the yard. Quickly, Darcy leapt to her feet and ran after her. ''Wait!'' Loki called, but she ignored him and followed Penelope into the darkness. A breeze tossed the tree branches, the leaves rustled as if murmuring. Halfway across the expanse of grass the woman stopped and looked at the sky.

''It eats moonlight,'' she hissed, darting out her tongue to lick at the air. Then she flopped down onto the grass, rolling and quivering, a weird moan rising up out of her throat. Darcy paused and stared for a moment, rooted to the spot with a nauseas apprehension. Loki caught up with her then, arriving at her side and staring down at the woman writhing on the ground.

''What do we do with her?'' Darcy asked desperately. ''We can't leave her out here...''

Suddenly they heard footsteps, turned and saw Jason and Retnick hurrying across the yard amid the darkness. ''Alright, Penelope, alright. Are you ready to go?'' the leader asked, almost cheerfully, as if he were dealing with an anxious and eager child. Her head swivelled in response, turning towards the woods.

''Yes,'' she hissed, an excited sound. She got to her feet in a single contorted motion that made her seem nearly boneless. ''All of you go back inside,'' Retnick instructed the rest of them. ''She doesn't need an audience.''

Darcy looked like she wanted to say something but Loki grabbed her by the arm and gently led her away. Jason followed them, though his eyes lingered on Retnick and Penelope as they disappeared into the shadows and the darkness.

As they returned to the house, they passed by the dining hall. The three blonde women were standing there motionless, facing the windows. They stared straight ahead, barely blinking at all. They were facing the woods, off in the direction that Retnick had gone.

* * *

><p>Loki hadn't told Darcy about what he had discussed with Retnick, not yet. He was still processing it all himself, and he didn't want to worry her. She'd been so terrified by the possibility that he might know that they weren't who they claimed to be that he didn't quite know how to tell her that was true. Frankly, he didn't know where either of them stood with the leader. They weren't in any real danger personally, it seemed, but that could change if Retnick felt that they were becoming some kind of threat to his plans. But the tone of the conversation had been strangely friendly, as if Lugh simply wanted someone that he could discuss his honest intentions with. Perhaps he'd been playing the role of benevolent spiritual guide for too long and needed to show someone his true face. And who better to reveal that to than the god of mischief?<p>

Regardless of what he and Darcy had learned so far, nothing was going to stop Penelope's Restoration from occurring, that had been made very clear. Loki was curious as to the format of the final ritual. Nobody else could be present for it, just Retnick and Penelope, and whatever was lurking eagerly beneath her skin. And it wasn't held anywhere inside the house—she was taken out into the woods somewhere. It was already after midnight and the house was quiet. Everyone had gone to bed, except for those three women, who were possibly still standing by the windows like a trio of sentinels keeping watch.

That night, after he finally managed to fall asleep, Loki had a very strange dream. He was in the room full of mirrors, a room that filled him with an inexplicable combination of intrigue and dread. As he leaned closer towards one, he saw reflected there a face like his, but different. Thin and pale, a leering mouth beneath hollow dark chasms of eyes. Like a shadow made flesh. It stared at him knowingly for several minutes, the empty eyes searing into his skin, branding him with a terrible sense of ominousness.

''Do you remember the first time that we were lied to?'' it asked. ''You knew it was a lie because it sounded different against the edges of their throat, a new intonation. The lie stands out brightly in an inexperienced liar. Over time you learned to monitor the tone. Control the muscles and the eyes, school the body into an organic naturalness until the day when you could scarcely even tell the difference between speaking falsely or true. As if it no longer mattered. She's made you oh so very slightly more aware. You're beginning to see the difference now.'' The apparition in the mirror leaned closer, his expression twisted. ''You want to feel something beautiful. Innocent. I understand that. A dream, a dream that we can be made better, that's all it is. But at the end of the day, we know what we really are.'' It bared its teeth, chuckled darkly.

''I am strong at the edges of your mind,'' it told Loki, the statement like an awful promise. ''You had better hold tight to her.''

'_'What is it?_'' He could hear Darcy's voice coming from far away. ''What's wrong?'' Concerned and faint, then stronger, more insistent. He felt a weight across his body. ''Stop now!'' she ordered loudly, and he obeyed. ''That's it,'' softer now. ''You're alright, you're safe.'' A warm hand rested against his face. ''Open your eyes. Look at me.''

Tentatively, Loki cracked his eyes open to see Darcy sitting on top of him, straddling his lower body with her legs, her hands on her shoulders, holding him still. He realized that he must have been thrashing in his sleep. ''There you are,'' she said with a smile, loosening her grip on him. Then the smile melted into an expression of concern. ''You were having a hell of a nightmare. You ok, baby?''

The god once thought that he'd never grow to like that particular term of endearment, but he'd been wrong. ''I'm fine,'' he said, trying to will away the shivery, dark feeling throughout his blood, forget the sight of that face in the mirror. She looked down at him, her eyes swimming with doubt. ''Ok,'' she relented, climbing off of him and laying back down in bed. Loki heard her sigh as she stared at the ceiling, then saw her gaze flicker over to the window. ''Do you think Penelope is ok?''

He didn't answer.

Neither one slept very well for the rest of the night, and Darcy had a blurry, anxious feeling crawling under her skin when she climbed out of bed the next morning. There was no sunlight streaming through the windows, just dark clouds clustered everywhere and the tapping sound of rain against the glass. She recalled the dying flowers, wondered if now that Penelope's Restoration was over they would flourish, if the earth would be satisfied for awhile. That sound of rain still haunted her, though, even after all this time, still made her feel like she was dreaming.

She hurriedly dressed. ''I don't know what you're in such a rush for,'' Loki commented. His voice sounded tired and thick. ''I don't think Penelope's going to be here regardless.''

Darcy paused in pulling on one of her boots. ''Why? What do you mean?''

He shrugged. ''I just have a feeling. I don't think she's anywhere in this house. Whatever took over her body left a kind of distinct energetic impression—I'm sure you could sense it too, you just weren't aware of it. There was a heaviness, a smell of copper.'' The god shook his head. ''There's none of that here now. It doesn't mean that she's dead or that anything overly horrible has befallen her, she's just...somewhere else.''

After taking a few moments to concentrate, she realized that he was right. ''Well, even so...'' she said. ''An early start never hurt anyone.''

At this statement, he gave her a quizzical look. ''Are you feeling alright?''

''I have a renewed sense of vigor and purpose,'' she stated, squaring her shoulders.

''Oh. I see.'' Loki tried to hide an amused smile. ''That must be wonderful for you.'' He reached out a hand. ''Come here.'' Darcy obliged, walking over to where he was sitting on the bed. He put his hands on her arms, stared deeply into her eyes. ''What have you been up to?'' he asked. ''What do you know?''

She hadn't told him about her trip into the woods. Or about the phantom little girl. She knew that if she did he would just worry, tell her not to go wandering off. He had a tendency to get a bit overprotective. But then again, it wasn't as though he didn't have a reason to be.

''You haven't been...exploring anything dangerous, have you?''

''No.'' Darcy shook her head. ''I just have a few suspicions that I'm trying to work out.''

''Alright,'' Loki said slowly. He rubbed a hand over his face, sighed. ''We really should sit down together at some point today though and discuss what we've found so far. Try to decide how to proceed next.''

''Ok,'' she replied.

The first person that Darcy saw when they went downstairs was Jason. He was sitting calmly in the parlor, flipping through a magazine. When he saw her, the young man smiled widely. ''Hi Lucy,'' he said, setting it down and getting to his feet. ''Did you sleep well?'' Before she could answer the smile began to slide just a little, becoming more pinched and forced.

Darcy felt Loki standing behind her, felt his hand on her shoulder. ''Yeah, pretty well,'' she replied, looking around. The house seemed very quiet this morning, the tapping of the rain against the windows sounded unnaturally loud.

''Where is Penelope?'' Darcy asked, trying to keep a casual tone in her voice.

''She's recovering,'' replied Jason.

''Recovering where? Is she ok?''

Retnick now strode into the room and walked over to stand beside Jason. ''Penelope did very well,'' he answered. The look on his face told her that was as good an answer as she was going to get.

''Lucy,'' he said, greeting Darcy with a smile. ''Don't you look pretty today.''

''Thank you,'' she mumbled, attempting at a pleasant expression. The leader seemed to be in remarkably good spirits this morning, and he looked...slightly _younger_, if that was possible, some of the stress lines that had gathered on his face the past two days had vanished and he looked strong and healthy. He smiled at the three of them. ''Why don't we sit here and talk,'' he said, gesturing around. ''The mirror room needs some maintenance, and since there are so few of us we might be more comfortable in an informal setting.''

Darcy noticed that the scarred girl was nowhere to be seen. ''Where's Cloud?'' she asked. Retnick looked up the stairway. ''She's not feeling well again, the poor thing.'' He shook his head. ''Such a fragile young woman. It's rather sad.'' Then he briskly turned and waved a hand toward the chairs by the fireplace. ''Shall we?''

''Lucy, you're particularly interested in the origin of things,'' the leader started once they'd all taken a seat. He fixed his pale blue eyes on Darcy as he spoke. ''You want to know where they come from, correct?''

She nodded, inwardly squirming at being singled out. ''Do you think that its more important to know where something began or _why_ it began?'' he continued.

''I...uh...I think that sometimes when you look for the answer to one of those questions, you find the answer to the other as well,'' Darcy answered after considering it for a moment. ''If you know the origin of something then you can at least put it into context. Once you have that, then you can take steps towards understanding it.''

Retnick gave a nod. ''Looking back is easier, some might argue. You might go digging and find a pile of bones and some ritual objects and once you put a date to them you can guess who put them there. Perhaps it was a group that practiced ritual sacrifice, and so the bones and tools and the whole scene would make sense. In the past, for some, this was common. And for them, necessary. So that context creates a nice, safe box in which you can place these things. But what if, for example, in the present day one were to go digging and discover a similar scene but from much more recent times?''

''What, you mean if someone discovered evidence of a recent ritual sacrifice? That...would prompt a murder investigation.''

''Why?'' he responded, leaning forward. ''Why does the _when_ create the context and not the _why_? What makes an ancient pile of bones more excusable than a new one?''

Darcy huffed in exasperation at the line of questioning. She didn't really want to get into an ethical debate first thing in the morning, but if she had to, then she was at least going to make it a good one. ''Anthropologists don't...make excuses for or condone...human sacrifice. We know that certain cultures practiced it. That's a fact. To them, it was...necessary. To ensure a harvest, maybe, or to appease their gods in some way. Most of those cultures existed _thousands _of years ago. Today, we understand things like _weather._ We know that we're not dependent on some deity for our livelihoods. So, if you take away that context...''

''Then the behavior is inexcusable?''

''Yes. Then it's just plain old murder, like I said.'' Darcy was starting to wonder if maybe he was somehow trying to confess to something. But she knew he was way too smart for that. No, Retnick was testing her somehow, playing some kind of mind game, but she wasn't sure why.

* * *

><p>After the discussion was thankfully over, Darcy felt herself growing annoyed and a little sulky. She didn't like the way that she'd been ambushed, but was confident that she'd held her own. Jason seemed to think so too, because he kept staring at her with a stupid, admiring expression that made her want to kick him. Loki had been listening to the entire debate of course, and he was quite proud of Darcy and her clear-headed, succinct responses. But he was also wondering about something. ''What happened in the room with the mirrors?'' he asked the leader. Retnick stared at him thoughtfully, then answered. ''They need cleaning from time to time. I'm sure you know that mirrors are, historically, gateways to the spirit world. Particularly on land like this, that tends to...generate more of that sort of activity. The mirrors in this house, and that room, they're very active. And so we take care to make sure that they're properly maintained. We do <em>try<em> to watch some of the doors, you know.'' Then he turned abruptly. ''Lucy?'' he called. Darcy whirled around. ''What?'' she asked, trying not to snap. She was desperately needing caffeine in order to process all of the thoughts pounding at her mind.

Retnick smiled. ''If you go into the kitchen, there is some coffee prepared.''

She looked at him in surprise, not expecting the pleasantness. ''Uh...thanks,'' she replied, feeling a bit better with the mention of her favourite beverage.

The kitchen was very large. All of the equipment was very modern and polished. There was no sign yet of the three women, but there was a carafe of coffee sitting on the marble counter. Darcy opened cabinets until she found a mug and then poured some in, watching the dark liquid sluice against the sides of the ceramic cup. Gratefully, she inhaled the steam and then took a sip. Damn, but the house was eerie when it rained, she noticed. They turned up the lights in an attempt, she supposed, to make everything seem more cozy but it didn't really work. The whole space just felt like it was listening. It reminded her briefly again of first arriving on Asgard, when she had felt that the shadows were following her, watching her.

She tried to shake it off, taking her coffee and wandering into the dining room. It seemed even larger now that it was empty, the high ceiling loomed with more intensity, the long table seemed to stretch farther. And then there were those curious stained-glass windows. She approached one to get a closer look. The glasswork was so intricate. She wondered if they were an original part of the house or if they'd been put in more recently, it was honestly difficult to tell. The largest window featured an image of a tree, its branches reaching out. In the trunk of the tree there was an eye. Darcy wondered what that particular symbolism meant. It called to mind Yggdrasil, but there were other world mythologies that spoke of a tree of life, trees were a common theme. So were eyes, for that matter. Still, she shivered as she was instantly reminded of the tree that she had seen in the field beyond the woods, and that strange building beside it. Darcy was willing to bet that was where Retnick had taken Penelope for her Restoration.

At the furthest end of the dining room, there was a small, narrow passage that had previously gone unnoticed. Stepping carefully inside, she saw that it was a stairwell. She climbed it, following it up for what seemed like a long time. It led to an old, dusty corridor in a part of the house that she'd never seen before. At the end of the hall was a door. Tentatively, she approached it, reaching out and turning the large knob. It was locked, of course. There was, however, a crack like a peep hole, large enough to look through.

Darcy bent down a little to gaze through the crack in the door. At first she could see nothing, just a slash of dim gray light. There came a flicker of movement, and then the little girl appeared, staring back at her. Darcy jumped back, startled. After taking a moment to catch her breath and calm her clamouring heart, she reached for the knob again. When she tried it this time, surprisingly, the door opened with a creak, allowing her into the dusty room. A old-fashioned rocking horse, a child's toy, sat on the wooden floor. A doll was propped on a chair beside it. A small bag of marbles lay there also. The room looked like it hadn't been used in quite some time, except for the toys it was mostly empty and covered with a film of dust. Faded wallpaper peeled along the walls and an old, thin sheet hung over the window as a curtain, filtering the dim daylight and casting everything in a ghostly hue. Darcy saw that there was a large wooden cupboard on one wall, swaddled in cobwebs. Curious, she walked over and pulled it open. On one of the shelves inside, there sat several framed black and white photographs.

The first photo was of two men in English World War II army uniforms. A peculiar chill ran through Darcy as she recognized one of them instantly. There was a small caption in black ink on the bottom. ''Dr.s Retnick and Haven,'' it read. There was another beside it, featuring three men this time, all in uniform. They were all smiling, seemed to be at a bar celebrating something. The photo also showed Retnick and this Dr. Haven, but also a smaller man who was sporting a bandage over one eye. ''_Ethan_,'' she whispered disbelievingly. And then, in a delicate gold frame, there was a third picture. A little girl with long hair, wearing an old-fashioned dress, half-smiling primly.

Darcy heard footsteps behind her and her heart plummeted in fear. Turning around, she let out a relieved sigh when she saw that it wasn't Retnick, but rather Ethan Montauk.

''You really are a bold and curious thing,'' he said, almost amused. ''Retnick does not take kindly to his privacy being invaded, so I'd be very careful if I were you.''

''The little girl in the picture,'' Darcy asked pleadingly. ''Who is she?''

His mouth set in a line. ''Anna-Lily Jones,'' Ethan replied. ''Retnick's adopted daughter.'' He sighed deeply, looked older, sadder too if that was possible. ''She's where all of this madness began.''

''Tell me. _Please_,'' begged Darcy. She needed to know the story behind these photographs, obviously they were a key to Retnick's past and the larger mystery of Restoration. Ethan stared at her for a long moment, then caved. ''Oh, all right. I never could resist a curvy brunette.'' He heaved another sigh and then began. ''I'm sure that you know by now that Retnick and I are much...older than we actually look,'' he said, nodding toward the pictures on the shelf. ''We fought in the Second World War together—we were army doctors, and quite good friends. Even back then, Lugh was obsessed with the idea of immortality, he said it was what made him want to become a physician in the first place. He truly believed that science and medicine would advance so far during our lifetime that it would be possible.''

Ethan laughed his trademark grim laugh. ''Of course at that point science was too busy figuring out new and wonderful ways to kill us all, rather than extend our lives. Still, Retnick was undaunted. Began experimenting with the newer technology of cryogenics—mostly on animals at first. Then he rescued a little girl during the Blitz. Her parents had been killed, and she had no living relatives. So he took her in. He was calmer for awhile. He loved that little girl so much, doted on her. He liked having someone to take care of, someone who would love him back. And then, as cruel fate would have it, she became deathly ill with leukaemia. There was nothing that Retnick or I or anyone else could do about it—Anna-Lily was going to die. I think that was when Retnick began bargaining with the dark side. The sicker the girl became, the more Lugh became convinced that he could save her. Right up until the end.''

''What happened then?'' asked Darcy.

''He went mad, I suppose. Drank all of the time, became a disheveled mess, a shell of his former self. Holed up in the house all the time with his _books_.'' A shudder passed through Ethan's thin frame. ''We rarely saw him, except for some nights. Joe Haven-he's the other man in the pictures there-and I were out at the bar and we saw him from the window, heading into the alley where the...ladies of the night typically sought customers. We saw him leave with one of them. The next night she'd returned, but she didn't look right. Her eyes seemed strange, it was like she was in a daze. She'd cough and spit what looked like black tar. After that, nobody ever saw her again. He was back again less than a week later, took another girl. She never came back at all. I guess the whores started to catch on because they started spreading the word to stay away from Retnick, nobody would go with him after that, no matter how much he offered. I suppose that taught him a lesson, because he changed his tactic. Learned a little _subtlety._''

''He learned how to fish, you mean.''

''Something like that,'' Ethan said with a light nod. ''And then he reappeared, looking stronger and healthier than we'd ever seen him. Spouting off all kinds of nonsense about how he had learned all these great secrets, the way to live forever. Wild, dark, heretical stuff. Aleister Crowley wouldn't even have wanted to be_ near_ him, that's how off the wall some of his ideas sounded. But Joe was intrigued. And I have to admit, I was as well.''

''Why did Retnick make you immortal too?'' asked Darcy.

''Because,'' Ethan said softly, ''he was lonely.'' He picked up the photograph off of the shelf, the one with him, Retnick and Haven in the bar, rowdy and smiling. ''It's hard to watch your friends grow old and die while you stay frozen in youth. We scarcely even had a say in the matter.''

''What happened to Joe?'' she wondered, staring at the other man's face in the photo, trying to wrap her mind around this story.

A darkness clouded over Ethan's face. ''Something went wrong during the ritual. Both Haven, and the Vessel, whatever poor bastard that was, both died. Lugh took this very hard, especially considering that Joe had something that he very much needed.''

Darcy was intrigued. ''And what was that?''

''A portion of a book, a very, very old grimoire,'' he replied. ''See, what Retnick is doing wasn't exactly a new idea, sorcerers had been attempting it since the Middle Ages. It was heresy of the highest order, and so was passed along in secret. Lugh made it a point to collect as many of these books as he could find. Theft was not out of the realm of possibility if he wanted it badly enough, and some of the grimoire's he acquired were done so using less than legal methods. War has a funny way of unearthing a lot of old and buried things, and Joe happened to stumble across the book—it had been pilfered from the rubble of a church, if you can believe that. Haven knew that this tome contained the exact incantations that Retnick needed to complete his work. He hid it.''

''Why did he hide it?''

''Nobody knows for sure. For awhile I thought that it was because Joe was afraid of Retnick, of what he was becoming. But then I began to suspect that his motives had more to do with _her_.''

''Who?''

''Joe was in love with a woman, madly in love. The war had left him badly rattled, made him acutely aware of how fragile life was. Like Retnick, like all of us. We had to stare directly into the face of our own mortality every day. Some learned to deal with it better than others. Joe wanted to live forever, and he wanted his lover to live forever too. But on his terms, not Retnick's. And so he tore out the pages that Retnick needed, then gave him the book.''

''Did Retnick know what Joe did?''

''I always believed so.'' Ethan hung his head. ''I always also wondered if Joe's death really was an accident.''

A long, silent pause hung in the air. The weight of memory and time clustered above and all around them like a canopy. Darcy looked again at the photo of Anna-Lily, at the toys on the floor that must have belonged to her, long ago. She could almost hear a whisper of a song, out of the ether. Along with it came the blunt and alarming feeling that she'd only gotten part of the story, that so much still remained buried, waiting to be coaxed to life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Sorry about the small update gap-work has been crazy! Here is the next chapter for you guys, I hope that you all like it! Please let me know what you think! :)**

* * *

><p><em>it is funny, you will be dead some day<em>

_By you the mouth hair eyes, and i mean_

_the unique and nervously obscene_

_need; it's funny. They will all be dead._

**-e.e. cummings**

Darcy wasn't sure what to do. She was very quiet at lunch that day, couldn't stop thinking about what Ethan had told her. Those photographs, the toys locked away in that dusty room—these haunted her mind. As did poor Penelope, who hadn't yet returned. Retnick's keen eyes seemed focused on Cloud now, who was beginning to look frailer than ever. She hunched over her plate tiredly, holding the fork in her hand as if it were the weight of an anvil. There was a very sad, blank look in her gray eyes, the look of someone losing a battle. Loki had grown quiet as well, very thoughtful—or perhaps troubled. She remembered him thrashing during that nightmare. He hadn't told her what he had been dreaming of, hadn't told her much of anything at all. Usually Darcy was the one who succumbed to bad dreams.

The afternoon brought a darkening sky and no answers, no Penelope. Loki retreated to their room while Darcy remained downstairs. After chewing her fingernails and pondering her next move, she decided to go out into the yard. She walked by one of the gardens, saw that despite Ethan's best efforts and Penelope's Restoration the earth was still hungry because the flowers once again looked parched and sickly. On an impulse, she knelt down and then lay on the ground, stretching out, staring up at the sky. Darcy had done this quite often as a child, she liked to watch the clouds moving. She would become almost hypnotized by it, after awhile she would begin to feel as if she were falling up into the sky, losing herself amid the blue and grey. The ground seemed to acknowledge her presence, hummed beneath her as if speaking. And then the feeling once again began to creep along her skin like vines, a deep and urgent feeling of want, of hunger. It was a palpable energy that spread all over her. Everything else began to wash away—there were no photographs, no immortal men and ghostly children. No Penelope, nothing. Just the sky and the earth and her heart beating and the _wanting_.

Darcy got to her feet and quickly went inside.

Loki had decided that he didn't like the trees, the woods that surrounded the mansion. They seemed to be growing darker and more far-reaching, the path to the main road seeming farther and farther away. The whole place was much too aware, he could feel it like pinpricks along his skin. This wasn't the scenario that he had intended to find himself in when they had accepted this assignment. He hadn't expected it all to be...well, as real as it now was. And he certainly hadn't been anticipated these new feelings of unease that were cropping up in his mind, in his dreams. Fortunately, he didn't require as much sleep as a human, so hopefully dreams could be avoided for the next few days. He needed to be very conscious of his surroundings.

Sitting down at the desk in their room, Loki tried to take inventory of everything that he and Darcy had learned since arriving. Yet he found that it was surprisingly difficult to concentrate. His mind felt weary and foggy. He wondered where Darcy was, felt a pang of emptiness and worry. He didn't know where she'd been running off to, and he prayed that she wasn't doing anything dangerous, wasn't going to get herself into trouble. He still hadn't told her about his conversation with Retnick, and he wasn't exactly sure why he kept putting it off. He wasn't sure of a lot of things, and that was not a comfortable thing to admit. Loki found himself staring out the window, looking out towards the trees, at the mercurial sky that always seemed to be on the verge of spitting down rain even when the day had dawned brightly. He lost himself in thought for what might have been hours until he heard the door open and saw Darcy enter.

''I feel like I haven't seen you in days,'' he whispered softly, blinking as if he were waking up. Relief and hunger washed over him in turn as he reached for her, pulling her close.

''I'm right here,'' she replied, reaching up to trail her fingertips along his face. ''Always right here.'' Darcy brought her mouth against his, feeling that unique pulse of electricity that came when they touched.

She sucked at his lips, absorbing, memorizing the taste that was_ him_—the shape, the feel, everything. She bit down, felt him draw in a gasping breath. She raked her fingers through his hair, yanking. He growled, looked at her with those glorious icy eyes. It was just them, in a place that only they knew, a place where time stopped.

''I'm going to devour you,'' Loki promised, and his gaze burned straight to her core. ''Utterly and completely.''

''Do it,'' she replied, relaxing her body, opening her mind, leaving herself raw before him, begging him to chase away all of the dark and horrible things that she'd seen, the nightmarish images lingering in her mind.

''Show me what I want to see. Show me every inch of you.'' His voice dripped with dark want. Darcy removed her clothes, let them fall to the floor. She watched a shiver go through him. She was drenched, throbbing. Her skin was so sensitive that it felt as though she might go crashing to pieces once he finally touched her.

Loki slid down onto his knees in front of her, shifted her legs apart. She braced herself against the cool wall, opening further to give him better access. His tongue darted out to lick languidly along her before quickly massaging her clit and then snaking to slide inside of her, in and out, in and out until she was whimpering and shaking, her fingers buried in his hair, scratching at his scalp. ''Breathe slowly,'' he said, pausing, looking up at her with darkened eyes, the sight of him between her legs sending a new wave of arousal up her spine. ''Let it happen.'' Darcy leaned her head back, let him continue, licking and sucking relentlessly, every time she got closer he changed, shifted rhythm, carrying her somewhere else. Faster, faster, almost, almost, close, _yes_-

He pulled away, stood up in a brisk motion and then scooped her up into his arms and tossed her onto the bed with a gentle aggression. She loved seeing him like that, the dark look in his eyes, promising wicked and wonderful things. Loki climbed onto the bed then, leaning over her. His lips fastened to her neck, sucking, biting. Her heart was pounding out its frantic music, she was lightheaded with desire. And as always, everything was so quiet when he was with her.

''My sweet, beautiful girl,'' he whispered, his breath cool against her skin. ''So soft, so lovely. The taste of you…'' Darcy writhed underneath him in response to his words. His eyes burned into hers.

''You are mine. Mine, do you hear me?'' Loki demanded as he reached up to pin her hands together above her head. She moaned and arched her back, her breasts rubbing against his chest. She really did get quite turned on by this possessive side of him, the barely-restrained wildness. The _need._

''Yes,'' she gasped out. ''Yes, I'm yours.'' As he finally thrust inside of her, she briefly recalled Ethan's words from the day before. _Your greatest longing is amplified. _

Afterward, they lay together on the bed, her head resting on his chest. Loki played with a strand of Darcy's hair, ran his fingers down her bare back.

''Wouldn't it be nice if we never had to open that door?'' she remarked softly. ''If we could just lay here and forget where we are?''

He breathed quietly for a moment, then said, ''Like that room in Norway?''

It swam through her memory in bits of faded colour, the bed, the wallpaper, the sound of rain. The strange peacefulness that accompanied not knowing who she was and not having to know, needing only to exist. It felt like a dream now, an old and comfortable dream that she always tried to recall for fear that one day it would slip away. ''Do you think about it?'' asked Darcy.

''All the time,'' he admitted.

She raised her head and looked up at him. ''It's strange to remember _not _remembering.''

He smiled at her, then the smile began to falter just a little.

''The curse of a very long life is the forgetting. In time, your memories will dull and fade, even the sharpest. They'll come back only in distant scraps of a dream. Something might bring them back. A song. A scent. The changing of a season or the way that light reflects off of water. They will come back, but only partway. Until the day when they can no longer be recalled.'' Loki's voice was thick, sad-sounding. ''There is so much that you will forget. And I am sorry.''

Darcy didn't say anything for a moment, but she thought of Jane and their last conversation. She thought of Natasha and Tony and Erik. And then she thought about walking through the cemetery, the silence there. ''As long as we have each other, I think I can live with forgetting,'' she told him.

The god's lips curved upwards in another half-smile as he silently prayed that was true.

Then she looked at the door again and sighed. ''Retnick knows about us, doesn't he?''

She felt Loki tense underneath her. ''Yes,'' he replied. ''Or at least he knows that we work for SHIELD and that we're clearly not Lucy and William O'Neal.''

Darcy decided that it was time to tell him what she'd discovered in the hidden room. ''He's immortal.''

Loki nodded. ''Yes, he is. I gleaned as much from the conversation that we had. And the price for that immortality is these people. Life for life. He's deluded himself into truly believing that they've chosen this of their own free will and he's nothing more than a lucky facilitator of their greatest desire.'' He scoffed. ''I suppose we must lie to appease our consciences.''

''He's going to need more people soon,'' she remarked as a light shudder ran through her body. ''There's not that many of us left.'' Darcy hesitated a moment. ''Do you think that-''

''He doesn't want us,'' Loki cut in quickly. ''At least not for Restoration. He can't use us that way.''

She blinked at him. ''Why not?''

''Apparently we can't be used as Vessels. Because of…of the way that we are.''

''Oh.'' That was at least mildly comforting to Darcy. ''But even so, more people are going to wind up the same as Penelope…there has to be some way that we can stop him.''

''That's jumping the gun a little,'' replied Loki. ''We don't know _how_ to stop him because we don't know all the details of how he does what he does. This is very dark magick that has taken years and years to harness exactly right. And we don't even really know _what_ happened to Penelope. We need to wait and gather more information.''

''Alright,'' Darcy agreed. She ran her fingers along his chest. ''But not just yet. I need to hold you for a little bit longer. You're the only thing that makes sense. The only thing I want.''

* * *

><p>Being with Darcy had cleared Loki's head, as it always seemed to, made him feel healthier and more focused, more like himself. Some of the foggy unease had briefly lifted, and he could think more clearly. He'd decided that his next move would be to learn more about the land itself. It seemed that it served as a type of energetic amplifier for whatever rituals Retnick was performing. Any type of magick that dark and intense needed very specific conditions in which to work properly. And usually those conditions involved some very dark things. As he passed by an open door in the hallway, he saw Cloud sitting in her typical spot. But there was no open book in front of her today. The girl leaned helplessly against the window, looking out across the yard toward the woods. She had the look of a prisoner facing execution.<p>

''Why don't you run away?'' he asked her softly, stepping into the room.

Cloud's gaze darted fearfully towards the door, then out the window again. ''If I run...'' she whispered, ''the trees will see.''

Something in her voice made Loki abruptly uncomfortable. ''What are you talking about?''

''There's something very strange out in the woods. And if you run away from here, it finds you. Trust me,'' she added softly, her gray eyes wide, her shoulders trembling. ''Retnick isn't the worst thing on this land. I've decided...I think...I think that I should just accept Restoration.'' She slumped forward, wrapped her skinny arms around herself.

''Nonsense,'' he said firmly. ''There has to be another way. Just leave by the front door and don't go near the woods.''

The girl looked at him with great sympathy, as if she found him terribly naïve. ''That's not how it works.'' She shivered. ''You have to choose. One way in, one way out. And then the gate is closed. Forever.''

Loki pondered her words, said nothing.

''Maybe I'll get lucky,'' she continued. ''Maybe the Restoration will kill me. At least then someone might find my body. They've been watching you too,'' Cloud whispered, her face ashen. ''I see them.''

* * *

><p>Given Penelope's disappearance and whatever was apparently happening to Cloud, Darcy decided that she was simply going to have to summon all of her courage and see just what was being kept inside that old building out in the woods. She knew that there was something important there, but still it filled her with a cold and inexplicable fear and dread. Leaves and twigs crunched under her feet as she moved through the forest, the trees seemed to acknowledge her presence as she passed beneath their branches and made her way out the other side into the clearing where that huge tree loomed, and beyond it the stone building stood. There was a latch on the door, which lifted easily.<p>

It opened with a creak. The floor was little more than dirt. It reeked of musty darkness and something else, a sour, coppery smell. As she turned a corner into a hallway, she glimpsed movement in the darkness, heard a sound. Darcy moved closer and the light streamed through the window just enough for her to see what was was a person shackled to the wall. The girl scarcely looked human anymore, was little more than a wraith. Her eyes were yellow, sunken. Papery skin stretched grotesquely over her bones. Her breath came quickly in terrible hissing gasps.

Darcy had to will herself not to be sick.

''You're...you're Z,'' she said, overtaken by a sudden awful _knowing_, the kind that was never wrong.

At the sound of her name, there came an odd glimmer, a small spark of recognition came leaping. Before it could die away, her faint voice rasped. ''Kill me. Please.'' Dark fluid gurgled out of her mouth. She reached out helplessly. The chains rattled against the floor. ''Kill me.''

A few steps down the hall there was another room, more like a cell, with bars on the door and windows. There was a person inside, lying on the floor. She wasn't chained, though, and when she sensed Darcy approach she bent and got to her feet in a single strange, contorted movement. Though she was altered beyond belief, she made Darcy's eyes widen in instant recognition. ''Penelope?'' she whispered in a shaking voice.

''No,'' the voice answered, that thick, dark, hissing voice. ''Not anymore. But she is here, though. I am holding her, holding her close.''

''What are you?'' Darcy asked, backing up just a little. ''Why won't you let her go?''

The creature looked at her strangely. ''She doesn't want me to. She is mine. I am taking care of her, she belongs with me.'' Hands ran along her body and face, almost lovingly. ''I have never been so wanted before. She gave me her body and her soul. And now we are one.''

''She can't want this,'' whispered Darcy.

It continued to stare at her searchingly with its revolting eyes. ''When your beloved touches you, do you not tremble with delight? Do you not crave him, long for him inside of you?''

''That is completely different,'' she answered in a small, deadly quiet voice.

It just smiled. Darcy continued to walk, walking away from Penelope's cell. The creature's eyes continued to follow her as she went. There were more, she realized in horror, more cells stretching down a long corridor. And inside of each one there was a person—or what had previously been a person. This was a prison, a prison where the 'successful' Restorations were kept. Some of them were chained, some were not. A few stared and were silent. Others reached out their hands and spoke, sometimes in English, sometimes in unfamiliar languages. She turned, and ran.

The sun had slipped completely behind a dark, mean cluster of clouds as a few small drops of rain began to fall.

Ethan Montauk was once again standing in the yard. As soon as he saw Darcy stalking towards him from the path, saw the stricken look on her face, he said, ''You've been to the woods.'' It wasn't a question.

''Why is he keeping them out there?'' Her voice was a rough gasp.

''Their Restorations worked,'' he replied simply. His voice was like ashes. ''Whatever they became Vessels for won't let go. They must be so happy to finally have a body that they've grafted themselves so strongly to the human bodies that nothing can be done.''

''What do you mean, 'nothing can be done?' '' demanded Darcy. ''What about like...performing an exorcism or something. One of you guys must know how to do one.''

''It's too late for that,'' Ethan said, shaking his head. ''And it wouldn't have worked anyway. You're not dealing with a run of the mill beastie like a lesser demon or a rogue angry ghost. These things are powerful. There's a reason that they're ordinarily locked away, far from us. There's a reason that we're damned. No, those things are never going to leave Z or any of the others. And they won't let them die, either. The beings are comfortable right where they are. So...there's nothing that can be done. They've grafted to those poor bastards like transplanted bone marrow.''

''And you just stand by and let this happen?''

He looked almost hurt. ''It's not that _simple_, Lucy, there is more going on here than you know.''

She gave Ethan a ragged, furious look and then turned and hurried back to the house. Since the leader apparently knew all about them, continuing on with this charade wouldn't do anyone any favours. Her heart slammed uncomfortably in her chest as her hands practically shook with anxiety and anger both.

As Darcy stormed into Retnick's office and took a seat without being asked, the leader looked up at her and gave a sigh.

''I very much have enjoyed your company my dear, but your attitude could definitely use a bit of improvement.'' He glared at her as if she were a misbehaving child.

''How do you expect me to improve my attitude, given everything that I know now?'' She raised an eyebrow at him.

''You don't know everything,'' Retnick waved his hand dismissively. ''Not even close. I know that you've been talking to an old friend of mine. All you have heard, my girl, is bits of gossip and some very old stories. Not enough of anything to take back with you.''

Darcy decided for the time being to keep quiet about her visit to the prison in the woods. ''I know why you're doing this. Ethan told me. It's because of Anna-Lily, right?'' He looked at her with a very empty expression on his face. He was quiet for a moment, quiet like a graveyard.

Then he leaned back in his chair, studying her. ''You take such an issue with what I do. You're practically trembling with rage.''

Darcy realized that he was correct, her hands were balled tightly into fists and she was digging her fingernails sharply into her palms. Forcing herself to relax ever so slightly, she shot back ''Why shouldn't I be? You're hurting people!''

Retnick shook his head. ''No, dear girl, that's where you've got it wrong. _I_ am not doing anything to them. They've chosen this.''

Darcy thought of Z, chained to the wall, her hands helplessly reaching out. ''I really don't think so. Maybe that's what you tell yourself, but we both know its a lie.'' She narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms.

''Anyone who does not wish to continue is free to leave at any time,'' Retnick answered evenly. ''Many have, over the years. Restoration is not a path for everyone, only the strong. Many weak people have come here and found that they were in the wrong place, and so, they left.''

''What happened to them?''

He shrugged. ''I'm not responsible for them once they _leave_.'' He fell silent for a moment, then said. ''Sometimes, what we want is not yet clear to us. But however much we try to deny it, we all want something.''

Darcy had never been inside the leader's personal study before. She let her eyes travel around the room for a moment while she considered how to respond to his last statement. But once the painting on the wall caught her eye she couldn't speak at first, only stare. Retnick noticed her looking at it, and gave a sigh. ''As yes. That was painted by another old friend of mine. Joe Haven—I'm sure that Montauk has told you about him-was quite the artist. Used to drag that damned sketchbook everywhere. Painted landscapes and nonsense until he met that woman—was utterly smitten by her. And then, she was all he ever wanted to capture—on canvas, and otherwise. He was obsessed, you see. She came from a very wealthy family, whereas Joe certainly did not and so he felt that he wasn't worthy of her. But she loved him very deeply nonetheless. Her parents certainly did not approve though, and so they had to carry on their rendezvous in secret. They planned to run away to Paris and marry.'' Retnick stared at the floor.

_Oh my god_... Darcy thought silently as she stared disbelievingly at the painting, at the very familiar face of Joe Haven's lover. _Helen_.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey loves! Thank you for your reviews! Yes, the plot has indeed thickened and as you will see it is only going to get stranger from here on out, because I am diabolical like that, haha! ;) But you guys know that there is always a method to my madness, so please hang on and enjoy the ride!**

* * *

><p><em>I am the key to the lock in your house<em>

_That keeps your toys in the basement_

_And if you get too far inside_

_You'll only see my reflection_

**-Radiohead**

**SHIELD**

''I pulled those old case files you asked for, ma'am,'' Andrews said, walking into the office where the Black Widow was seated at a desk. After the events of the previous year, the young lab tech had been promoted and was now the assassin's personal assistant of sorts. She'd requested that he go searching for more missing person cases that could potentially be linked to the Restored Ones. ''And I also found something else that might be very interesting.'' The redhead raised her eyebrows at Andrews, motioned for him to continue. He took a deep, shaky breath and did so. ''In 1988, a motorist saw a young girl stumble out of the woods near where that cult is now. She was incredibly disoriented but managed to tell a very odd tale. Claimed that she'd 'fallen asleep in the forest' and gotten separated from her friends.''

''So?'' asked Natasha.

''So, after I did some digging I found out that she was a match to a much older cold case—girl went missing in the exact same area in 1953 after she'd wandered off from a group on a school picnic. She'd been presumed dead.''

''A pattern, maybe? A similar disappearance?''

''No ma'am. A _match._''

''Wait...'' the Black Widow said slowly, disbelievingly.

Andrews nodded. ''It was the same girl. She hadn't aged a day.''

Natasha was very quiet for a moment, then asked, ''Where is she now?''

''Psychiatric clinic upstate, near Syracuse,'' he answered.

''Let's go pay her a visit.''

* * *

><p>''I'm telling you, Helen's portrait is in Retnick's study. She was supposed to get married to Joe Haven, that's why she was in Paris, they were going to run away together!'' Darcy was talking so quickly that she could barely breathe. After seeing the portrait on the wall, she'd quickly excused herself from the conversation that she'd begun with the leader and had run upstairs.<p>

''Slow down, love!'' Loki ordered, putting his hands on her arms and holding her still. She quieted a moment and took a deep breath, forced her buzzing mind to calm. ''That's better,'' he said more gently. ''Now, what's going on?''

''I went to talk to Retnick.''

Loki's lips set in a line. ''Why?''

Darcy took another deep breath, then answered gravely, ''Because I found Penelope. And Z. And all of the other people who were Restored.''

''What do you mean?'' He leaned a little closer to her. ''Where are they?''

''Out in the woods. That's where he takes them for the final ritual. And if it works, that's where he keeps them. They're...they're not really human anymore.'' She winced at the memory. ''Retnick doesn't know that I know. But...I've been talking to the gardener. His name is Ethan Montauk, and he's immortal too. He's an old friend of Retnick's, they were soldiers together during World War Two. He told me all about how this started.''

''I see.'' Loki's expression was blank. ''And how did it start?''

''Retnick had an adopted daughter named Anna-Lily,'' explained Darcy, skipping around the part where the girl's disembodied spirit occasionally appeared to her. ''She died when she was very young. And then he started collecting old grimoires and practicing some really dark magic. He wanted to find the secret to immortality. I guess he must have found it, or at least part of it. There was a man named Joe Haven, he was friends with Ethan and Retnick. Joe apparently had part of a book with some kind of secret incantations or whatever that Lugh needed, but he wanted to keep it for himself. Because he was in love with a woman, and he wanted them to be together forever. That woman was Helen. I recognized her from the portrait that he painted—Retnick kept it for some reason.''

Loki mulled this all over silently for a moment, then said, ''First, we need to figure out what was in those books—and especially what was in those missing pages.''

''Shouldn't we contact SHIELD?'' Darcy asked, almost hopefully. ''Those people chained up out there—that has to be enough to convict Retnick of something.''

''Possibly, but I still think that we should wait,'' he answered. ''SHIELD isn't going to be able to do a damn thing for those people. At best they'll be turned into experiments for awhile, and then eliminated. Also, Retnick knows who we're working for, and so he's probably going to be expecting us to contact them. I say we wait, at least a few more days.'' Loki paused, then asked, ''Why didn't you tell me this before?'' There was a tone to his voice that Darcy didn't quite like, a disappointed edge, brushed with irritation.

''You didn't tell me what happened when you had _your_ little chat with Retnick,'' she shot back.

''Yes, but I also didn't go wandering in the woods alone! What if something had happened?'' Loki's green eyes lit with a small flare.

''What was going to happen? They're literally locked in cells!''

''_They_ might not be the only thing out there!'' he practically yelled. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him, took a step back. ''What do you mean by that?'' she asked, crossing her arms.

Loki forced himself to calm down. He didn't understand why he'd suddenly blown up like that, and he could tell by the look on her face that Darcy wasn't pleased at all. And she had every right to feel that way. It was true—he hadn't told her everything that he'd learned right away either, and it wasn't as if she was deliberately keeping secrets. The god just hated the idea that she might be putting herself in harm's way, hated himself for not being there to protect her all the time, despised himself for allowing this place to get some sort of weird hold on him.

''Cloud told me that there's 'something strange out in the woods,' something that won't let you leave,'' he explained in a softer voice.

''What is it?''

''She didn't say.''

''I've _been _in those woods. Yeah, they're creepy as hell, but nothing happened to me except a major panic attack when I realized what he's been hiding out there.''

''Yes, but you didn't try to _leave_.''

Darcy suddenly remembered what Retnick had told her, about how Restoration wasn't for everyone, how over the years many had left. She abruptly felt very tired.

''What the hell is really going on around here?'' she asked, sinking down onto the bed.

''I don't know,'' he replied.

* * *

><p>When Darcy headed back downstairs again later there was someone in the parlour that she had never seen before—an older, slightly round woman with blonde hair. She looked a little like the three girls from the kitchen, but her face was slightly more mobile—she seemed more <em>human.<em> As she bustled around, she hummed, hummed that abysmally familiar tune. _Oh dear, what can the matter be..._

When she noticed Darcy, she straightened up with a smile. ''Hello there,'' she said. Her eyes were indeed that same pale blue as the other women, but reacted normally to the light.

''Hello...'' Darcy replied carefully. Then, hoping that she didn't sound rude, she asked, ''Who are you, if you don't mind me asking?''

''No, dear, I don't mind at all,'' the woman replied cheerfully. ''My name is Mary, I'm the housekeeper.''

''I'm Lucy.'' Darcy was still using the fake name even though she wondered what the point in that was. ''I haven't seen you before.''

Mary kept smiling. ''Well, it's a very large house,'' she offered with a light shrug of her round shoulders. ''Lots of cobwebs and dust and places to hide.'' There was a bit of a loopy quality to her voice and demeanour that made Darcy wonder if she was altogether sane. The woman turned then and busied herself with cleaning the room. The house was very quiet, except for the sound of the broom scratching along the wooden floor. Darcy headed into the dining room again, she wanted to get another look at those stained glass windows, particularly the one with the eye inside of the tree trunk. _There's a strange tree, far off in the field, _Helen had said, back in Paris. _Blood on the branches, blood in the soil._ The ghost's words held a new and far more ominous weight given that now she was somehow a part of this mystery as well. She hadn't wanted them to come here. She had cried for days. But Darcy had insisted, and she was definitely beginning to regret that decision.

As Darcy stared at the window she heard the shuffling of Mary's feet as the housekeeper approached. She turned at the sound and was met with the woman's curious smile. ''Do the trees sing to you?'' she asked. Before Darcy could give a reply, Mary added, ''A tree does not choose its long life. It can only stand and grow and endure it, watching all the rest fade.'' And then she walked away without another word.

There was a definite feeling of unpleasantness cloaking the air, a kind of foreboding that made Darcy's stomach hurt a little. The whole house had grown more claustrophobic, the walls pressed in and breathed down her neck, waiting. She felt badly about her earlier conversation with Loki. Sure, they argued sometimes, any couple did—but she was aware that this was a time when they needed to be on the same page. And it seemed like ever since they had arrived they would fall strangely in and out of sync with each other in very polarising extremes. They'd have those weird moments when they would be drawn together in a powerful whirlwind, prompted by that intense feeling of longing that would come crashing out of nowhere. And then when those times ended he began to slip away. There was something bothering Loki, she could tell. He was starting to look more tired than usual, was growing too quiet.

And Darcy still wasn't sure how to feel about seeing Helen's portrait, either. That was most certainly _not_ a coincidence, and it wasn't entirely comforting, either. Once again, it seemed that they were too close to what was going on, too much a part of the madness. Was this going to be their life from now on? Were she and Loki both doomed to be caught up in a web of supernatural power-struggles for the rest of their days? Darcy was beginning to feel like this was her fault. After all, she'd been the one who wanted to leave Paris. And where had it gotten them? 'Smack in the middle of a gothic horror novel, that's where,' she grumbled as she pushed open the door and walked outside.

Darcy found Ethan Montauk standing in the side garden again, frowning down at the mess of dead flowers all around his feet. ''It doesn't seem to matter what I do,'' he said wearily, scooping them up, their pale roots dangling sadly like weak strings. ''This earth grows more and more cursed every day.'' He noticed her standing there, offered one of his fleeting, lopsided grins, though now it looked more like a grimace than ever. ''You know, you can talk to Retnick until you're blue in the face, and nothing will ever change. Trust me. You'll only grow frustrated. He's gotten more stubborn over the years.''

''What's out in the woods?'' Darcy asked him. He raised an eyebrow in response. ''I'm not talking about the prison,'' she added. ''You know what I mean. There's something else, isn't there?''

His expression remained unchanged. ''They say that if you walk far enough, beyond the tree, there is a place where time stops. And you slip inside the forest's dream, out of reality, never to be seen or heard from again. I've heard mad tales, but then again...'' Ethan trailed off. ''This land is so old. Of course it's haunted. Of course it would know more than you or I. There's been all kinds of things in these woods.''

* * *

><p>Cloud was nowhere to be found. She disappeared some time in the early evening. Darcy knew that the girl had been talking with Jason an hour or so before, and so she sought out the young man. ''Have you seen Cloud?'' she asked him. He stared at her in that annoying way that he had and then slowly shook his head. She let out a grunt of frustration and hurried out of the room and up the long flight of stairs. She knew that the young woman's bedroom was near the opposite end of the hallway. She knocked at the door, but there was no answer. After a moment she tried the knob. It turned, allowing her into the room. Darcy let out a gasp at what she found. Cloud wasn't there, but the walls of the room were literally covered in slashes of writing done with a heavy marker, some in English, some in another language that Darcy didn't know, but the script looked similar to something she'd seen in Loki's book on magickal alphabets. The words in English made very little sense, they said ''<em>Come and be well in the Palace of Souls''<em>.

With a shaking hand, Darcy pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the room for later reference. She noticed that the window was slightly open, the curtain rustling in the breeze. On the desk there sat a stack of books which included a printed out copy of 'her' thesis. Atop that sat a folded note, held down in place with a small paperweight. Moving closer, Darcy noticed that the note said ''Lucy'' on the top. Curious, she removed the paperweight and opened the note.

_Dear Lucy,_

_By the time you read this, I'll be gone. Don't bother trying to look for me. I already know that I'll never be found. This is the way that it has to be. I know that you're not who you said that you were, but thank you for being so nice to me, whoever you are. Please stay out of the woods. Tell William not to dream._

Darcy read the letter over several times, then refolded it and put it in her pocket, head spinning. ''No,'' she whispered out loud into the empty room with its ruined walls. ''No!'' She hurried out, shutting the door firmly behind her. Practically sprinting down the stairs, she found herself once again impetuously on her way to barge into Retnick's office. There was no need, however—she caught the leader as he was walking down the hall. Darcy gripped his arm and he turned, glaring down at her.

''Where's Cloud?'' she demanded frantically.

''She ran,'' he answered in a stony voice. ''She wasn't strong enough for Restoration.''

''What the hell does that mean? What did you _do_ to her?''

''As I told you before, I didn't do anything. Once she leaves, she's no longer my problem. She belongs to the forest now.'' He looked paler again, lean and hungry.

As she moved absently through the room with a broom in her hand, Mary the housekeeper chuckled, a strangely hollow sound. ''Little lambs, lost in the woods,'' she sing-songed. ''Running, running through the darkness.''

Retnick wrenched his arm from Darcy's grip and turned once again and stalked away down the hall.

Feeling impotent with rage, Darcy dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands and then, unable to help herself, let out a small shriek and swept her hand through the air. The contents of the mantelpiece—a small antique clock and several vases-were violently tossed across the room with the force of the telekinetic energy and shattered on the floor.

Mary barely even blinked at this, just sighed and dragged her broom over. ''And I'd just got done cleaning this room...'' she muttered.

Darcy sucked in a breath, forced her hands to stop shaking. Turning, her stomach turned over icily as she noticed Jason lurking in the doorway, watching the scene with a great bit of interest, as he had the night that the Well had possessed her during the Circle.

* * *

><p>Loki was dreaming. It was night, a black and moonless night. He was outside, standing right by the path that led into the woods. At first there was no sound, only the light rustling of the tree branches. Then, off in the distance he heard a faint sound, the crying of an infant. The crying grew louder and he began to follow in the direction of the noise, passing under the dark canopy of leaves. His stomach turned over as he saw that there was a baby lying on the ground, naked except for a ragged blanket. It screamed and batted its hands in the air. He noticed that the child was covered in blood, blood that thankfully seemed to belong to someone else. Not knowing what else to do, he reached down and picked up the shrieking baby. Loki turned to leave, to head back the way that he had come, but soon realized with a cold slash of fear that the path had disappeared, everything looked exactly the same and he was disoriented. Lost.<p>

Then there came a rustling sound and he turned with the child in his arms to see Cloud standing there amid the darkness. There seemed to be some kind of light behind her, deeper in the woods. It gave a small amount of illumination to the space. To her left stood a little girl wearing a gray dress and red shoes. The little girl said nothing, just stared ahead. The look on Cloud's face was sad, vacant. She reached her hand out to Loki. ''It's alright,'' she said. ''It's all alright, now. Come and be well in the Palace of Souls.''

* * *

><p>Darcy suddenly felt a jolt of fear pass through her, hard and mean as a hammer against her skull. A temporary wave of dizziness overcame her and she felt her hands grow cold. Then came a kind of tearing sensation as if something was trying to pull away a part of her. Nearly numb with terror, she bolted up the stairs as fast as she could, though she was slowed by the overwhelming panic so acute that it was physically painful. She staggered down the hallway until she reached the door to their room. She reached out and turned the knob, but it didn't open. <em>What the hell...<em>

She didn't have time for this. Something was happening, something terrible. She felt as if someone was trying to rip her soul in half. Extending her hand, she concentrated as hard as she could and sent out a pulse of telekinetic energy directly at the doorknob, which was abruptly blown clean off of the wood. The door swung open creakingly. Loki was lying on the bed, asleep—yet it looked like he was having some kind of a night terror, he was muttering and thrashing again. _Tell William not to dream. _

Now Darcy was certain that it was time to be afraid, something was definitely awake and aware inside this house and it wasn't friendly, and it wasn't going to leave them alone, Vessels or not. ''Loki!'' she yelled, sprinting over and climbing onto the bed. She gripped his shoulders, tried to hold him still. ''Loki, _wake up_!'' At first he didn't seem to respond so she clamped her hands down on the sides of his head and spoke directly into his mind, practically screaming. _Wake up now!_

It took half a moment but then he blinked his eyes open foggily. ''Darcy?''

''What is happening to you?'' she asked in a hushed voice, her blood running icy with worry.

''I don't know,'' he replied honestly. Loki felt like he'd been brushing the edges of something horrible. ''I was dreaming. Though I don't really recall falling asleep. I was...walking in the woods. I heard a child crying, found an abandoned infant covered in blood so I picked it up. Then...I saw Cloud. She was standing next to a little girl. She wanted me to come with her, to someplace called the Palace of Souls.''

Darcy had now grown very, very pale. ''Was the little girl wearing a gray dress?'' she asked softly. Loki nodded. Pulling out her cell phone, she showed him the picture that she'd taken earlier, the writing on the wall. ''Cloud is gone. Retnick said that she 'ran,' because she wasn't strong enough.''

''What is the Palace of Souls?'' Loki wondered grimly.

''I think that's where she is now,'' replied Darcy. ''I've had enough. I don't care what you say—this shit ends now.'' She pulled out her cell phone to call Natasha on the secure number that the Black Widow had provided. If they ran into trouble she was supposed to call, let it ring twice, then hang up. Her eyes narrowed and her heart plummeted as she opened her list of contacts. It was empty. Every saved number in her phone had been erased. ''What the fuck...'' She looked at the lack of bars on the home screen and realized that she had no service anymore, either. ''All right, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter,'' Darcy chanted to herself in a wavering voice. ''Let's just get the hell out of here.'' Loki nodded in agreement. They grabbed a few necessary items and then quietly headed down the stairs. ''Where's the car?'' she whispered to him.

''It should still be parked around the side by the front entrance,'' he replied.

''Let's hope so.''

Unfortunately, before they could make the foyer, Retnick appeared, an uncomfortable smile on his face. ''If I might have a word with the two of you in private,'' he said. Loki and Darcy looked sideways at each other. ''Alright,'' Loki answered, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. They followed the leader down the hall to his study. Darcy mentally steeled herself to fight if she had to, recalling every defensive spell that Loki had taught her.

Retnick firmly shut the door and then turned to face them. ''The walls have ears,'' he said. ''But not in this room. I've made sure of that.'' He narrowed his eyes. ''Whatever you both think that you know, you're miles off target. I'm a very _old_ man and generally I don't like surprises. And you two have surprised me. See, anyone else wouldn't have lasted this long. They would have called back to headquarters and had a swat team here within two days of arriving and then we would all have had a very large mess on our hands. But you're different. And in this place, unfortunately, that tends to attract a bit of attention from some. I must admit,'' he added, ''you are a most intriguing pair. I'm so happy to see that people like you exist, it makes me feel _saner._''

Retnick leaned down close to Darcy's face, looked right into her eyes with a long and very cold stare.''A long life...'' he muttered. ''You have no idea how long it can actually be. Your heart is going to break over and over again until you force yourself to turn to stone. This is how you create a bitter and vengeful goddess. Stones and water and death by the sea. I've been around for a very long time too.'' He gave them both a faraway look, he seemed to have slipped into one of his odd twilight-moments, those times when he became like a dreamy and forgetful old man teetering on the borders of delirium.

''Borrowed time,'' sneered Loki.

Retnick glared pointedly at him. ''It's all borrowed time, my dear boy.''

''You drain the life from innocent people and funnel it so that you can live forever,'' Darcy snapped at the leader. ''That's more than borrowing. It's _murder_.''

''Maybe others died so that you could live forever too!'' Retnick spat. ''You little hypocrite. Nothing comes free. But for my part I took nothing that wasn't offered willingly.''

So he was still singing that tired song. ''Those bodies buried in the woods, the ones that were found,'' Darcy demanded bluntly. ''What...what were they?''

He stared out the window, a revolted frown dragging down the corners of his mouth.''Those that died during the final ritual. They were grotesque. Weak. Vessels that could not hold.''

''You mean you didn't get to suck out their life force? Oh, how sad for you!'' Darcy knew that she was treading on dangerous ground with her sarcastic attitude, but she was too far past the point of caring. ''What are you going to do with the Restorations that work?'' she asked Retnick pointedly. ''Your prison is getting full.''

A weak half-smile, half-sneer ghosted across his face.''That is not for you to worry about, my dear.''

''You need to stop calling things through whatever door you've got open,'' spoke up Loki. His tone was matter of fact as he attempted to reason with the leader. ''You know this land has a very dangerous energy to it, it's amplifying the work that you do. But it's going to pull that portal open wider and wider and then not even you will be able to control what happens. These...beings, or gods, or whatever you call them—they won't just be sliding througb one at a time and giving you life forces in exchange for bodies. They won't have any need for you as middle man anymore.''

''The way I do things now can sometimes be unpleasant but necessary,'' Retnick answered. ''I am very careful. And I am, at the core of it, performing a service to the universe, to the gods and mortals both. We are cursed beings but we can be made stronger. They can help us.''

''They're turning people into monsters—this isn't supposed to happen, it's against nature!'' Darcy cried.

He rounded on her furiously. ''Who are _you_ to tell me about nature? Oh you are a curious abomination,'' he hissed.

''You conjured things that you had no business conjuring, all because you wanted power over life and death. You used those people as bait.''

''It was their desire,'' he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

''What gives you the right to decide that?'' she practically shrieked.

''Uppity little miss,'' Retnick chuckled, shaking his head. ''You both really should run along, you're of no use to me now. Wasted Vessels.'' He looked at them with an offensively pitying gaze. ''Thank you for your interest.'' He waved his hand at Loki and Darcy and suddenly it felt as though they had been lifted up and thrown violently against a brick wall, and then everything crashed into darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

_For now I need your hidden love_

_I'm cold as a new razor blade_

_You left when I told you I was curious_

_I never said that I was brave_

**-Leonard Cohen**

Darcy clutched at her head, struggled to sit up. The world around her tilted slightly, her surroundings strained to come into clear view. Loki was sprawled on the floor beside her, now beginning to wake up as well. She groaned. ''I feel like I have the hangover from hell, where are we?''

He blinked, looked around. ''We're back in your apartment,'' he noted with surprise. ''What day is it?''

She quickly checked her phone, which was thankfully still in her pocket. ''Thursday. We've been asleep for almost a whole day. How did we get...'' The memory came back to her like a bullet. ''Retnick. Can he do that?''

''Apparently so.''

''But _why?_'' Darcy asked, pulling herself to her feet. Her legs felt achy and rubbery. ''Why did he...send us away like that?''

''I'm not entirely sure. There seems to be a very large part of this story that we're missing.'' He got up as well, grateful for the abrupt change of scenery. Despite the discomfort that had come from being teleported against his will, Loki was feeling much more clear-headed now that they were away from that place.

''What the hell do we do now?'' wondered Darcy, who was feeling both equally elated and bewildered by their change of scenery as well. ''I mean, besides take a shower. God, I feel gross.'' She made a face.

''Go do that,'' Loki replied. ''And then we'll talk. I need to think.'' Mercifully, now he _could_ think constructively, there was no muddy confusion obscuring everything.

''Alright,'' she said slowly. Darcy first walked into the kitchen and made some coffee, because she needed to think too, and caffeine was an absolute necessity for that. She showered quickly, not even really feeling the water along her body, she was too busy with all of the pieces of information rattling around in her head like a jigsaw puzzle in a box. _Why would he let them go_? Maybe what Loki had told her was true and Retnick simply didn't need them around for anything. What was that the leader had said-'you're of no use to me now.' But still, why send them back? Perhaps he knew that she and Loki weren't that easy to kill, hopefully. Darcy shook her head. Nothing added up. Sighing as she looked at the water circling down into the drain around her feet, she turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. As she was doing so, in the mirror she caught a glimpse of her hand, of the gold ring that was still on her finger. ''That thing really must be lucky,'' she thought to herself with a small smile, thinking of Heid in her cabin, out in the snow. _She _would know what to do. But the seer was thousands of miles away, and could offer them no help. Once again, it seemed that they were on their own.

At least they were together, though, that helped Darcy to breathe a little easier. And they were away from that dreadful place with its trees and secrets. Now that they were back on the outside, she and Loki would have more resources available to them—they could do more thorough research on the land, on Lugh Retnick—everything. Particularly now that they knew that much of the relevant information on him would be found far in the past.

She got dressed quickly and went out and joined Loki at the table. He was staring ponderously at the sketchbook he had managed to bring back with him, it had been tucked under his coat as they were trying to leave. Darcy plugged her phone into the USB port and printed out all of the photographs she had taken of the house and the surrounding land, then set them out on the table. ''We have to call SHIELD,'' she said with a sigh.

''And tell them what, exactly?'' He looked up at her.

''Tell them what _happened_!''

''What good is that going to do?'' Loki asked. Darcy realized that he was correct. If they were still in the dark as to what was going on with the group, then SHIELD would certainly be no help, or worse, they might be walking into a trap. ''Do you think Retnick sent us back because he _wants_ us to tell them?'' she wondered. ''He'll expect that, right, he knows who we work for. What if that's part of his plan? He _is_ running out of people—only Jason is left there now, aside from all the weird housekeeping staff that seemed to pop out of the woodwork.''

''It is curious,'' said Loki, mulling this over. He was thinking about that awkward young man, felt another inexplicable rush of dark anger as he recalled the way Jason always seemed to be staring at Darcy, the look that had made his skin crawl. ''And very possibly, that is his plan. Retnick did say to me once that he wanted 'bigger fish.' However, something tells me there's more to it than that.'' Loki flipped through the pages of the sketch book then frowned deeply at something.

''What is it?'' Darcy asked curiously, leaning over. She saw that the page was covered in writing, mostly numbers, it looked like, but also a few seemingly random words. ''Did you write that?'' she asked him. Loki frowned. ''No. I didn't. These pages were blank before.''

''Do you know what any of that means?'' she asked.

He stared at the paper for a few more moments, then said, ''The first two sets of numbers appear to be coordinates.''

''To what?''

''Something we're supposed to find, apparently. Put those into your phone, see what comes up.''

She did so, then raised her eyebrows. ''Well, it's in England, whatever it is. In a place called Berkeley Square, in the West End of London.'' Then, ''Retnick was from England. So were Ethan Montauk and Joe Haven. And Helen.'' Darcy sighed. ''I'm fairly certain that's _not_ a coincidence.''

''Fancy another trip, my dear?'' Loki asked her, a sardonic yet gentle edge to his voice.

* * *

><p><strong>Syracuse, New York<strong>

Natasha and Andrews were ushered down a long hallway by a nurse whose rubber shoes made an almost musical squeaking sound against the floor. The Black Widow was reminded of Norway, when she, Darcy and Loki had visited Erik Selvig in the hospital there. These types of clinics were more or less all the same inside, soothing colors and uncomfortable chairs and glassy-eyed patients shuffling along in slippers and robes. They were led to a common room at the end of the hall where many patients were quietly gathered, some watching television, some reading, some just staring. One of the staring was a small woman sitting on a chair by the window.

After stumbling out of the woods that day nearly thirty years before, the girl, Olivia Ebert, had finally begun to age yet only halfway. Now, it was almost impossible to tell how old she was simply by her appearance. She had a very strange and contrasting look about her—she was stooped like an old woman, her long hair was a stark grey-white. Yet her face remained unlined, eerily youthful, while her eyes were dark and entirely ageless. She said very little, they were told, but she liked to draw and paint. She had trouble sleeping, and often needed to be given medication or she wouldn't sleep at all. She looked up at them as they approached, quietly summing them up with her deep, dark eyes. ''Olivia,'' the nurse said gently, ''this is Agent Romanov and her associate Mr. Andrews. They would like to talk to you. Is that alright?''

The woman gave a slow nod and the nurse hung back towards the doorway, waiting quietly there.

''Hello, Olivia,'' the Black Widow began. ''My name is Natasha. We wanted to talk to you about something that happened a long time ago. If you can't remember, that's ok. But anything that you can tell us would be helpful.''

She seemed to understand, she leaned forward a little as if waiting. Natasha opened her mouth to say something but Andrews moved forward and knelt down in front of the woman's chair.

''Olivia, what happened in the woods?'' the usually nervous young man asked in a soft, steady voice that the Widow hadn't heard from him before.

The woman thrashed her head from side to side like a tree branch in the wind. Then she began to speak. Her voice was small yet rusty, like a creaking gate. ''Nothing,'' she said. ''Nothing. I wandered through the darkness. I must have fallen asleep. There was sun in the sky at first. The day was warm. Then...when I opened my eyes...everything had grown dark and strange. No way to tell the direction or time no...way to remember anything. It lasted for so long. And then sometimes the darkness would part and I could see a light up ahead. I'd wander more closely and then I'd see it.''

''What?'' Natasha said. ''What did you see?''

The woman's eyes darted from side to side as she tried to remember. ''It looked like...a house...but taller. Bigger...like...a _palace_. It glowed. There were voices inside and they would call to me. The hands would reach out but I...'' Tears came to her eyes. ''I wouldn't go closer. I was afraid! And so I kept wandering in the dark.'' Olivia began to sob now.

''Alright,'' the nurse said, walking over. ''I'm afraid that will have to be all for today, Agents.''

* * *

><p>''So, what<em> are<em> we going to do about SHIELD?'' Darcy asked Loki, who was still staring at his notebook, at the various sketches that he had done during their assignment. She cringed a little as she recognised Cloud's face from a sketch, her wide, sad eyes and rotten teeth. It still made her ache inside, the fact that she couldn't save the poor young girl from whatever fate had befallen her.

The god seemed to be thinking about it for a moment. Then he said, ''We're going to lie.''

She wrinkled up her nose. ''Do we _have_ to?''

''For right now, yes, we do,'' he told her decisively. ''They're not going to be any help at the moment, we already talked about that. Best to keep them in the dark until we can figure out what's in London that we need to find, until we learn more about what we're actually trying to fight.''

After an hour or so they called headquarters and found out that Natasha was away at the moment but would contact them as soon as possible, which was just as well. She wasn't going to be very happy with what they had to tell her. A couple of minutes after she'd hung up with the person on the other end, Bruce Banner called, which Darcy found more than a little surprising.

''I heard that you were in the city again. I'm not briefed on the details of your assignment, obviously...I'm calling as a friend. In a way,'' he said, ''it's good that you're back.'' The scientist gave a little sigh, then went on. ''I'm not sure exactly how much I should be telling you, but...I think you should check on Dr. Foster.''

''What do you mean?'' Darcy asked quickly, feeling her blood grow a little colder. ''Is she ok?''

There was a small pause. Then Banner said stiffly, ''Some of us have become...concerned by her behavior. Jane hasn't been acting like herself. She's missed quite a few meetings, her poor assistant can't find her half the time...and when she's here she's very...distracted. Fury has suggested a mandatory leave of absence but I thought that since you both are friends maybe you could talk to her and see what's really going on.''

''Um...ok, I'll try. Thanks for letting me know, Bruce.'' She hung up the phone. Loki gave her a curious look. ''What's going on?''

''That was Dr. Banner. He said that he's a little worried about Jane, apparently she's been acting weird. He wanted to know if I could talk to her. It's not going to take very long, I hope,'' she added, seeing the expression on his face.

* * *

><p>Darcy hadn't spoken to Jane since their rather ugly conversation upon returning to New York, and though they'd once been very close friends, their relationship had most definitely changed, and so she was incredibly anxious as she walked up the concrete steps leading to Dr. Foster's apartment. The astrophysicist wasn't at her lab that day, apparently she hadn't been there in quite a few days. After ringing the buzzer several times the door finally opened. Jane didn't say anything when she saw Darcy standing there, but she let her inside. It seemed as though she'd been spending most of her time on the couch in the living room, surrounded by papers and maps and other weird charts that Darcy didn't recognize. The place looked like an utter wreck. Jane had always been a bit scatterbrained, but this level of disarray was unusual even for her. She'd grown a little thinner, more pinched and gaunt, her hair hung in limp strands around her face.<p>

''Hi,'' said Darcy, because it seemed like the best way to begin.

''Hey Darce,'' the scientist muttered in reply. ''Back from wherever you were—your top secret assignment?'' Her tone wasn't necessarily mocking, just blearily apathetic, which was very unlike Jane.

Darcy forced a laugh out of her throat, it felt rough and fake even to her and she cringed just a little and decided not to pretend that anything was funny. ''Uh, yeah, it turned out to be a whole lotta nothing. Just a giant hoax.'' This was, for the moment, the story that they were sticking with, the one that they were going to try to sell SHIELD to buy them some time.

Jane dipped her head in a nod, and that was all.

''So...um...are you working from home now?'' ventured Darcy, gesturing around at the papers littering the apartment, at the mess everywhere.

''At the moment,'' she replied. Then, ''I've been taking some personal time. I have some business that I have to take care of.'' Jane got up off of the couch and went into the kitchen. Darcy noticed that a book was lying open on the coffee table. She moved closer and saw that it was, of all things, a book on Norse mythology, opened to a page on the story of Idunn's apples. She frowned down at it, wondering at its purpose there.

''So what is it, if you don't mind me asking? What have you been doing?''

''I've been getting fertility treatments,'' Jane answered quietly, and more honestly than Darcy had expected, as she returned to the living room.

''Fertility treatments...you're...trying to have a _baby_?'' she asked in disbelief. Jane had never struck her as the maternal type, nor had she ever really expressed a desire to have children, not to Darcy anyway.

Jane nodded. ''And I was...having some...some trouble so...I decided to get the treatments.''

''I'm confused,'' Darcy said. That was the understatement of the century. Her head reeled.''I assume that you're trying to have a baby with Thor. Does _he_ know about...about you getting these treatments?''

The scientist shook her head and chewed her lip. ''Wait...wait...does he even know that you're trying to get _pregnant_?'' Darcy demanded.

Jane didn't say anything, now, just stared blankly at the coffee cup in her hand.

''But...why are you doing this, then?''

Dr. Foster's face twisted up as she tried not to cry. ''Why you?'' she demanded suddenly. ''Why you and not me? I should be what you are now! I need more time. I can figure it out...'' her expression grew abruptly strange and manic. '' Your blood,'' she said, staring at Darcy as if she'd just been given a idea. ''I'm a scientist. Banner has samples of your blood. I can figure out how it happened and...''

Enough was enough. Darcy's hand shot out and she slapped Jane hard across the face. She grabbed the thin woman by the shoulders and shook her. ''I _died_!'' she yelled. ''That's how it fucking happened, alright! I _died_, Jane! And then whatever killed me brought me back again, and I came back different. I don't know how, and I don't know why, and frankly, I've decided that I'd rather not know. There are some things that we're just _not_ supposed to be able to control.'' She shook her friend again and then let her go. They were both crying now. Jane collapsed weakly into Darcy's arms, red-faced and sobbing. ''I'm sorry,'' she cried, ''I'm so sorry, Darcy. It's just not fair.''

Darcy stroked her hair, letting her cry. ''No, it isn't fair.'' They cried together for awhile. After that they poured some wine and cleaned up the apartment, then settled back down on the couch to talk, the way that they used to, the way that they hadn't talked in so long.

''He's just...been gone so much lately,'' Jane said, meaning Thor. ''I feel like we're losing time.''

Darcy's stomach began to hurt a little at this, but she forced the feeling away as she took another sip of wine. ''I get it,'' she said. ''You thought that if you got pregnant, then he'd be forced to stay with you for longer, 'cause he's a good guy and cares about honor and duty and stuff.''

''And me,'' Jane added quietly. ''Yeah, something like that.''

Darcy caught her eyes flicker over to the book on Norse mythology that was now lying closed on the shelf and again wondered what that meant. She was starting to get more of a clear picture of her friend's motivations now and they saddened her more than anything else.

''But Jane,'' Darcy said very carefully, ''you know that's not fair to him. He has a very important job to do.''

Jane swirled the wine in her glass thoughtfully and gave a little brief nod of acknowledgement but didn't say anything.

''Do you think that you and Loki will ever...have kids?'' she asked. The question seemed to pain the astrophycisist, she gave a wince even as she asked it.

''I honestly hadn't given it much thought,'' replied Darcy, but as she said the words she was struck with the image of a dark-haired, green-eyed baby in her arms and felt a twinge of something strange and indescribable go through her.

''Because you have all the time in the world to think about it. No ticking biological clock for Darcy.'' A bitter edge began to creep back into Jane's voice and Darcy bristled a little but decided to nip this in the bud before they began shouting at each other. Despite all the repairing that she hoped they'd just done to their friendship, clearly nothing was ever going to be the same between them again. But she could try.

''That has nothing to do with it. Jane...I think that there are certain things that you still don't know about me and Loki.'' She poured them both some more wine. ''You were a little distracted, first with the end of the world, and then with being comatose and all. You missed some of the more important details.''

''Such as?'' asked Jane.

''Our minds are connected, mine and his.''

The scientist frowned. ''What do you mean, connected?''

''I mean exactly that. After you...first got sick, after the storm had just started, I was devastated. I felt like I was just sitting there, waiting. Waiting for my turn to lose my mind. And that...Jane, that's the thing that scares me the most in this world.''

''Because of your mom,'' she replied quietly, understanding.

Darcy nodded. ''Exactly. And then when I saw it happen to _you_, I just...I panicked so much. It felt like everything was being ripped away from me all at once. But then...there he was. And he told me that he would keep me safe no matter what. And he kept his promise. Loki used some kind of magic to link his mind to mine so that the storm wouldn't be able to affect me. Then, of course, I was still _human_ too. How do you think I felt? I'd been shown so much, given this incredible, amazing thing...I'd never felt so close to anyone before, been able to see...and understand anyone on that deep a level. It's stronger than empathy...almost stronger than love, Jane, if that's possible. And through it all, I just kept thinking that if anyone tried to pull me away from him, I'd die. The thought that tormented me the most was knowing that I was human, that even if by some miracle we made it through the end, I would grow old and then be dead and he would go on...it ripped me apart inside. But I kept going on. For you, for Erik, for everyone. And then by some weird miracle, I was changed, given this insane gift. But it wasn't without a price, nothing is.'' She took a long, long swallow of wine. ''So Jane, I do understand something about how you're feeling. More than you know.''

Jane was absolutely silent for a moment. Then she asked, ''Is Loki...is he good to you?''

''He's the best,'' answered Darcy. ''I know that sounds weird because you only saw the destructive, angry side of him. But I've come to understand that we all have that inside of us. No matter how long we live, what world we're born into, we're all born with the capacity for immeasurable goodness and immeasurable evil and everything in between. Loki made some terrible decisions, but _he_ is not terrible. No more than I am. He's a part of me now, and I'm part of him.''

A tear ran down Jane's face at this. ''I don't think Thor loves me that much. That's the part of this that really gets me, Darce. It's so ironic. He's the hero, the _good_ one. He's so caring and selfless but...in a way, that leaves me with very little. He cares so much about everyone that...'' She trailed off, wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. ''And here you are, and the person that I had always known as a selfish monster loves you a thousand times more than a selfless hero loves me.''

Darcy reached over and patted Jane on the knee. ''That's not true! Thor _does_ love you, he loves you so much. When you were sick...you should have seen him. He would have done _anything_ to protect you.''

Jane smiled limply. ''That's where you're wrong. For Thor, I will always be second to the greater good of the Nine worlds. Because the realms will live on long after I'm gone, and so will he. And once I die, yes, maybe he'll be sad for awhile, but then eventually he'll forget about me completely. Loki doesn't care about the greater good of anyone except _you_. If it came down to it, he would rip the universe apart without a second thought to save you. I never thought I'd say this, Darcy, but you got the better deal.''

* * *

><p>Loki looked up as Darcy returned to the apartment, her wine-stained lips turned down in an almost-frown. He raised his eyebrows in mild amusement. ''So...shall I ask how it went?''<p>

''Uugghh,'' she dropped her purse on the floor and shuffled over to the kitchen, where she pulled the cork out of yet another bottle of wine and snatched two glasses from the cabinet.

''_That well_, really?'' he asked sarcastically.

She gave him a crooked look. ''Damn super-metabolism,'' she grumbled. ''Can't even get a decent buzz on anymore.''

''Not with the swill you lot drink here, that's for sure. Although Stark does have a fairly decent collection...maybe you should have heart to hearts with him more often.''

''Ha ha. Ha. No, seriously,'' Darcy said, pouring the wine and handing him a glass, ''Jane's...well, she's not like I've ever seen her before, let's just say that. She's been missing work because apparently she's been getting fertility treatments, so that she can have a kid with Thor.''

Loki almost spit out his wine. He looked like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or not. His lips twitched indecisively. ''_Why_?'' he managed to say.

Darcy shrugged. ''Because...I dunno, I guess she thinks that if she gets knocked up then he'll stay around more often. I've never known Jane to be that...sneaky and manipulative, though. But I guess I've never seen her in love before, either. Love does weird, weird things to people.''

''Did she explain her reasoning to you?''

''Not in so many words. But she's definitely weirdly jealous of me and you. She went off at one point and I...'' Darcy stared down into her wine glass, a little ashamed, ''I slapped her.''

Now Loki did laugh, and it was one of those wonderfully genuine laughs of his that she loved, though she wished it had been prompted by something else.

''You _slapped_ her? Love, I didn't know you had it in you...what's that expression you Midgardians have...'karma's a bitch'?'' He laughed again, then caught her eye and quieted somewhat. ''And ah, what, pray tell, did the great Dr. Jane Foster say to cause you to do such a thing?''

Darcy sighed deeply. ''She started saying some crap about how it should be her, not me, how Dr. Banner has samples of our blood and she can figure out how it happened...'' she shook her head. ''It was just this crazy, rambling tirade. I had to cut her off. She didn't get it.''

Loki stopped smiling. ''Hmmm,'' he said. His eyes narrowed a little.

''But I talked to her and...and I think, or at least I _hope_ that now she understands things a little better. We left it on a pretty good note.''

He said nothing, but his expression told her that he didn't buy that.

''And...and there was something else,'' Darcy said hesitantly. ''She was looking at a book on Norse mythology, it was opened to a page on those magical apples, the ones that make you immortal.''

Loki groaned. ''I already told you, there _are no_ apples. That's just a story that found its way here, probably from somewhere else, and then it got lumped in with all the rest of the tales you tell.''

She huffed in response. ''_I _know that there aren't any apples, but _she_ doesn't. Jane has clearly thought about becoming...like us herself, she's looking for a way to make it happen.''

He shook his head, took a large drink of wine. ''Science can't create something like that. And neither can magick. We've seen what happens when people try.'' Loki looked at her pointedly.

''So then what makes it happen?'' Darcy wondered in a tired voice. ''Who decides?''

''That is a question that we don't have an answer to, and you know it. We are never going to understand exactly how you...became the way that you are, and if I can accept that, then so can you.''

''I...I mean, I do accept it on some level. But that doesn't make it any easier. Or any fairer.''

''Nothing is fair, love. Nothing in all the worlds. This isn't a fair universe.''

''At best it's indifferent...'' she repeated the words that he'd told her so often. ''At worst it actively seeks out blood,'' he finished for her, then clinked his wine glass against hers.

''Can he help?'' asked Darcy hopefully. ''Thor, I mean. Can't you talk to him and explain what's going on...''

Loki laughed again, but this time the laugh was grimmer. ''Oh, I'm sure that would be a wonderful conversation, me telling him how to handle his personal affairs. Darling, I'm not even sure where my oaf of a brother _is_ right now, and honestly, even if he were here, do you think it would do any good? He's certainly not going to be able to convince her not to do this.''

''Why not?'' she asked.

''Because to Jane, anything Thor says is going to sound like rejection. For example, he might toss out platitudes and suggest that they have all the time in the worlds to be together, when we all know that's rubbish. She's absolutely right about one thing: she is going to die within a normal, human span of time. He is not. And remember what I told you about forgetting?'' Loki's voice dipped down into a softer cadence, sounding very nearly sad.

''Remember what Retnick said about...watching,'' she added.

He nodded. ''She's growing older every day. They're losing time, and on some level...I believe that his visits here are becoming fewer and farther between, because he knows that. Because it will hurt so very much.''

''Why can't she...I mean, there has to be a way to...'' Darcy started, but Loki raised his eyebrows at her knowingly, and she paused, put a hand over her mouth. _Who are you to tell me about nature?_ The cult leader's voice snarled up out of the depths of Darcy's mind, making her remember. ''I'm starting to sound like Retnick. I have to be more realistic.''

''Yes, I'm afraid so. You can't save people from their mortality.''

Darcy thought about Jane, then, and in her mind she flashed forward and watched her beautiful, brilliant friend change, grow old and stooped, watched her powerful, sharp mind falter and grow forgetful. She watched Erik die. She even saw Natasha succumb to old age, unable to fight any more. That she hoped would never happen. Natasha deserved to die young and glorious, in the middle of a battle. That seemed the fairer end for the fierce redhead. Darcy closed her eyes and that brought no relief, she only saw miles of headstones under a grey sky as far as the eye could see, and her walking among them, just staring, staring down and praying to forget.


	11. Chapter 11

Loki and Darcy had booked a flight to England at four thirty in the afternoon. Darcy wasn't looking forward to the jet-lag, but she did like London. They'd been there before, but that time of course it had been a much more relaxing trip. She spread out her yoga mat on the floor and started her typical routine of poses, wincing at how tense her muscles were. There hadn't been much opportunity to practice when they were on the assignment and now she was feeling it. As her body shifted fluidly from one pose to the next she breathed in and out and tried to settle all of the thoughts bouncing around in her brain. ''Anna-Lily, Cloud, Penelope, Ethan, Retnick, Jason,'' Darcy chanted the names in her head, picturing all of their faces, wondering how they all somehow fit into the greater puzzle. Breathe in and out. ''Joe Haven, Helen, _Jane_,'' she thought, and then sank down wearily into another position on the mat. 'Remember to breathe', she reminded herself. _There's a strange tree, far off in the field. There's something out in the woods. There's something in this land that makes you want. Makes you crave._ Breathe. What was there? Darcy was reminded of her discussions with Retnick and Loki about the past, when she was still pretending to be a pagan anthropologist. _What makes you think that there were answers at the beginning?_Were there answers anywhere? Or were they running halfway around the world to be left with nothing, only more questions?

Darcy realized that her eyes were closed. Opening them, she looked up to see Loki staring down at her. ''Hi,'' she said.

''I like that one too,'' he noted with a grin, clearly enjoying the way her body was posed at the moment, her chest pushed forward. From his vantage point, he had a great view of her breasts, barely contained by the sports bra she was wearing. ''Haha,'' she replied.

''Are you ready for all of this?'' he asked, meaning their impromptu trip to England, and possibly more. She sighed, twisting around so that she could slowly get to her feet. ''I hope so,'' Darcy replied. ''I really do.''

* * *

><p>Before they left, while Darcy was distracted with packing, Loki slipped out. There was something that he needed to do. He arrived at SHIELD headquarters unnoticed, accessing the back stairwell so as to travel more discreetly. Not that it mattered, everyone seemed to be busy with their own assignments. Still, he didn't want to take the chance that he would bump into anyone who might feel the need to ask a thousand questions. They didn't have any time to waste on that, not at the moment. The god felt more and more like there was an hourglass all around them with sand slipping through, a clock counting down to something. It was a feeling of <em>urgency <em>and he didn't like it.

Once he'd reached the lower levels of the building where the Astrophysics department was located, Loki navigated his way down the hall and to the lab, still unseen. Jane was back at work that day, her talk with Darcy seemed to have gotten her motivated to do at least that much. This was part of what worried him. Based on what Darcy had told him, the scientist wanted to try to use their blood to synthesize some kind of immortality serum. It simply _couldn't _be done, but Jane was still going to try, he knew that much about her to be sure—she was stubborn and tenacious. And she would probably wind up killing herself in the process, once her body rejected it. Loki knew what happened when people became obsessed, when they wanted something so badly that all reason went flying out the door. And he couldn't allow it.

Darcy was going to be angry at him for what he was about to do, probably for a while. But eventually she would come to understand that it was for the best. The lab door was locked but Loki had actually been granted a relatively high security clearance—something that he knew would be taken away from him very soon, given what he was about to do—and with a swipe of the key card it opened. He stormed into the room like an unstoppable hurricane. Seated at a work station, Jane Foster trembled a little at the sight, had the good sense to shrink back a bit at first. Then she jumped up. ''Hey! What are you...''

''I'm getting rather tired of this,'' Loki said, like a manic child hell-bent on smashing something to bits. If he had to play the scenery-chewing villain then so be it. It was a role that he was quite used to. ''Time for an intervention.'' He pushed right past her, going straight for the refrigerator where all the vials of blood were kept. ''No!'' Jane cried out sharply, sensing his plan. She paled. ''Stop!''

''Funny,'' he snapped, rounding on her. ''I was going to say the same thing to you.'' He reached into the refrigerator, snatching up all three vials. ''Please,'' she begged. The scientist's eyes were so wide and frantic that Loki couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest. He had gone just a little soft, it seemed, after all. ''You don't underst—-'' Her protestations were interrupted by the sound of glass shattering on the floor. One, then two, then three, he threw each vial down, leaving behind a horrifically macabre scene. The white tile now resembled a hellish Pollock painting. Jane crumpled to the floor crying, and Loki carefully stepped around the shattered glass and blood, walking away without another word.

* * *

><p>He didn't let on about anything once he arrived back at the apartment, Darcy was still so distracted with their impending trip that she'd barely noticed that he was gone. Loki knew that someone from SHIELD would be trying to call one or both of them soon, furious, so he was grateful that they would be spending a good deal of time in the air with their phones off. Darcy didn't say much during the flight, mostly tried to nap a little, but that was never easy for her to do on airplanes, so she ordered a vodka and tonic and stared down at her notebook, trying to make sense of the convoluted web that had been woven all around them.<p>

The afternoon was cool and misty when they landed and took a cab to the destination that had been provided for them by some unknown source, clouds inching across the sky while a breeze whipped the trees in the park when they arrived. Then Loki and Darcy walked along until they reached a collection of buildings situated there. Darcy tapped at the screen of her phone as she brought up information about the particular spot that they were looking for in Berkeley Square, number 50.

''It's a bookstore.'' There was an almost disappointed tone to her voice. Then she clicked on another link and her expression changed. ''But it wasn't always. This building was once supposedly the most haunted place in London.''

''Lovely,'' Loki whispered, a smirk ghosting across his lips. ''That's fitting, isn't it?''

They walked inside the bookstore, not even really knowing where to start. There were obviously many shelves of books, and a middle aged, neatly dressed and put-together shopkeeper behind the counter. He smiled at them when they entered, gave them a little wave.

''Three down, row eight,'' Darcy read the directions off of the page from Loki's sketchbook, the words that followed the coordinates. They seemed slightly less perplexing now that they had a better understanding of the context. She followed the stacks down to the eighth row until she reached, of all things, a large book on ancient Sumeria. It was very dated, both the pages and binding showed that. Frowning, Darcy pulled it off of the shelf and opened it, flipping through the pages. Then something caught her eye. Tucked inside the book, there was an old, yellowed piece of paper, probably long-forgotten. It was an invitation, she realized with surprise, to a party in 1946, held at the residence of a Lord Stanwell Walters.

After a quick bit of googling, Darcy learned that the Walters Estate wasn't too far, less than twenty minutes away if the traffic was fine. Her phone buzzed again. Natasha. She almost wanted to answer it, though she knew she'd be getting an earful. Loki looked at her and shook his head. _Not yet_, he spoke firmly into her mind. She cringed a little and declined the call. ''She's going to kill us,'' Darcy muttered, sliding the phone back into her pocket, trying not to think of all the different ways that the Black Widow could maim them if she really wanted to.

''That's a first edition that you have there,'' the shopkeeper noted, looking at the heavy volume in Darcy's hands. ''Very old.''

Sliding the invitation back between the pages of the book, Darcy nodded and said, ''I'll take it.''

* * *

><p>Lord Stanwell Walters had been, among other things, an incredibly wealthy man. The estate was enormous—larger than Retnick's house—and it had been turned into a museum of sorts. Tours were available by request, and thankfully when Darcy called she found that there was one more appointment left that day. When they arrived, their tour guide greeted them. She was a tall, dour woman in her mid-thirties, her hair pulled back into a severe twist. The guide seemed almost physically incapable of smiling, but at least her voice was animated as she led them along through the house and explained its features to them.<p>

''Lord Walters was a dealer of antiquities, specifically maps and rare books,'' the woman explained. Darcy's ears perked up at this. ''What kinds of books?'' The guide hesitated for just a moment. ''Well, you see-''

''Did he collect occult books? Like...grimoires, maybe?''

The woman gave a slow nod, frowning a little at this questioning. ''Yes, he did. He had quite an extensive collection of books...of that particular nature.''

''Are any of them still here?''

The guide visibly stiffened. ''Who did you say that you were again?''

''I'm a researcher,'' explained Darcy, thinking on the fly. ''I'm writing a book on the history of the occult in England.''

''It's just a bit of nonsense,'' the woman said with clear derision. ''Lord Walters was fascinated by anything mysterious. He'd been all over the world—Egypt, Tibet...he was an adventurer at heart and had a keen mind. Of course he would be interested. And so were many others. Many, many people came here to see his collection, to ask his advice on...certain matters. But I assure you, his interests were purely of the academic variety.''

Darcy nodded calmly. ''Of course they were. And so are mine. If any of those books are still here, I'd love to have a look at them.''

The guide pursed her lips and stared at her for a moment of contemplation. ''Right this way, then,'' she said in a chilly tone.

As they walked down a long corridor that led to another wing of the house, Darcy's eyes caught on a picture hanging on the wall in a small room off to the right.

''Look!'' Darcy whispered wildly, grabbing at Loki's arm and leading him over to where a large black and white photograph hung in an ornate frame. The face staring down at them belonged to a beautiful woman with carefully curled dark hair and sad eyes. She wasn't smiling, in fact she looked as though she would much rather be somewhere else.

''Who is that?'' he asked, looking closer.

''It's her, it's Helen!''

''Are you certain?''

Darcy nodded. ''I'd know her anywhere.''

''Hmmm...so that's who was throwing things at me for almost a year.'' He studied the face in the photograph. ''She wasn't awful-looking.''

''No, definitely not,'' Darcy agreed, her mind reeling once again. ''No wonder Joe Haven wanted to make her immortal.''

The guide, who had been hanging tentatively in the doorway, moved into the room and came to stand behind them. ''That was Lord Walter's daughter, Helen. She passed away many years ago. Stanwell took it very hard.'' She turned then, indicating with her movements that they should move on. They did so, Darcy dizzily casting another glance behind her at the face in the photograph. _This Lord Walters was Helen's father?_ What the hell was going on?

They continued on down a corridor until they came to a small, dim room at the end. While the guide was looking for the key, Darcy's eyes drifted upward towards the door frame and saw with surprise that it also contained a carving of the moon transitioning through its phases, just like the door to their room in Retnick's house. The door opened with a creak. ''This is what they used to jokingly call 'The Library of the Damned,' '' said the guide, who didn't seem to see anything funny about the name. ''It was where Lord Walters kept all of his occult manuscripts. Some are very old, and are preserved under glass. The paper is extremely fragile.''

Loki looked around, then turned to the tour guide. ''Has there ever been any sort of a...theft, or a robbery?''

She shook her head. ''Not for more than nearly seventy years. After Stanwell died, the Estate became the property of one of his cousins, who had no patience for what he called 'that nonsense' and demanded that the room be sealed off. But less than two days later, he had a change of heart and decided to preserve it. Now that the building is owned by the Walters Trust, every possible security measure has been put into place for each room and everything of value is insured.''

''Begging your pardon,'' Loki said silkily, ''but you did say that there hasn't been a theft in more than seventy years. The collection dates much farther back than that. Were there any notable thefts very early on, before Lord Walters passed.''

The guide pursed her thin lips as if she had tasted something very sour. She took a moment before answering, ''Yes, as a matter of fact, there was. One very notable theft, in 1946, shortly before Helen Walters was found dead in Paris.''

''What was it?'' asked Darcy. Her voice came very softly, sounded old, like late afternoon sunlight casting over a dusty windowpane. ''What was taken?''

''Part of a particular manuscript that had taken Lord Walters many, many years to piece together. The book was a bit of a feared curiosity, many tales circulated about it. Bit of Lovecraftian horror, a sensationalized faery-story, nothing more. It was said that the book was so powerful and dangerous that back in the Middle Ages, it was split into pieces and carried to distant lands where it was hidden away in various locations. Some remained here in England, some went as far away as the mountains of Tibet.'' Almost against her will now, the guide seemed to be almost enjoying relating this spooky narrative. Perhaps she was just a born storyteller. ''The book was said to contain incantations for the darkest of magicks, among them those to grant immortality, even to raise the dead. Lord Walters was well known because he had actually collected nearly all of the pieces—he wanted the first person in over a thousand years to have the book in its entirety. And he almost did. The last pieces were actually discovered in Dresden, in the rubble of a church after the bombing. And those were the most notorious pages.'' She paused for dramatic emphasis. ''They were among the ones that were stolen, and remain missing to this day.'' The guide folded her hands, energized by her narrative, but even more so when she looked pointedly down at her watch and announced with a small smirk, ''And I'm afraid that's all the time we have left for today. But please, feel free to call again.''

* * *

><p>Loki and Darcy now sat in a pub less than a block away from the hotel where they were staying, checked in as Logan and Annabelle St. Lawrence. It was a nice, yet dim little place, with dark wood furnishings and a comfortable scent to the air like lingering cigar smoke. They were the only patrons there, except for a very old man parked in a wheelchair by one of the tables, a glass tumbler of brandy in front of him and a blanket tucked around his legs. The barkeeper was a larger, gentle man in his mid-sixties. When Darcy had dejectedly drained her pint glass of beer, he quietly refilled it without being asked and set it down in front of her with a small smile. ''You two look like you've had quite the day,'' he remarked.<p>

''You have no idea,'' mumbled Darcy, then she added, ''thank you,'' and took a large sip from the glass. He nodded and went back to scrubbing a cloth on the opposite end of the bar. She turned to Loki. ''Ok, so...Helen is the daughter of this Lord Walters, who was the first person to have that book, I guess. And she was also in love with Joe. My guess is that Joe must have been the one who stole the pieces of the book from Walters. Then he must have offered some of them to Lugh Retnick, as part of some kind of a deal.'' Before Loki could even open his mouth to reply, the old codger in the wheelchair behind them seemed to stir to sudden life.

''Did you say 'Lugh Retnick?'' the man spoke up, an interested tone to his voice. The barkeeper paused in wiping down the counter, sighed and shook his head. ''Dad...''

''Did you know him?'' asked Darcy, moving closer to the old man, who laughed, showing his yellow teeth. ''Yes, I knew him. During the war...and after. Strange, strange fellow...'' He seemed to be remembering something. ''He was once a respectable doctor. Had a little girl...sickly thing...it was so sad when she passed. But I do remember...he used to go out to Lord Walters' place for some of his parties. They were very exclusive. I was invited once...come ta think of it...'' he scratched his chin thoughtfully, ''that was the last time I ever saw Lugh. It was to do with some sort of an...an eclipse. Lord Walters liked to watched the skies...this eclipse was somehow important, he was talking to Dr. Retnick about it quite a bit as I recall.''

''You said that was the last time you ever saw Retnick?''

The old man nodded. ''Yes...yes, right before the eclipse. Then the little girl passed away and not long after that Lugh was gone. But he said something...I overheard...at the party. He was talking to Lord Walters and that little man with the eyepatch, what was his...oh yes, Montauk. Ethan Montauk. Nice fellow. And Retnick said something about how he was going to the woods to see someone that he called 'The Reckoner.' And that was the last time.''

''Is there anything else that you remember about that night at the party?''

''Oh, it was nearly seventy years ago...but since you're the best-looking thing I've seen in a long time, I'll try to remember. But I'll need some more brandy, first.'' He looked pointedly over at his son, who sighed again and then ducked beneath the counter and pulled out a very aged and expensive bottle. ''All right, Dad,'' the barkeeper replied wearily. ''This had better be a good one.''

* * *

><p>Several hours and pints of beer later, Darcy remained sitting awake by the window, her mind humming and spinning from old stories and alcohol, a cigarette in her hand. She hadn't smoked since college, and that had mostly been limited to parties, the time right before finals, and the few moments when Jane wasn't looking. Once she would have felt just a little guilty about it, but now she couldn't care less. She glanced down at her phone, which showed several missed calls from Natasha. She winced and took a drag on the cigarette, then looked over to the bed where Loki was sprawled out, surprisingly asleep.<p>

Loki was dreaming, yet it was more than a dream. It wasn't at all vague or unreal. Rather, it seemed as though he was an observer of something that had actually happened, long ago. He was in the Paris apartment that he and Darcy had shared, but it looked very different. The wallpaper, the way the furniture was placed. A phonograph sat in the corner, there were no traces of modern technology. Everything was very dim and quiet. A breeze came through the open window, rustling the curtains. He heard footsteps, the telltale click clack of female shoes against the wooden floorboards. Then he saw her. It was Helen, wearing a green dress, her hair still carefully curled, a strand of pearls against her throat. But her gaze was so sad and far-away, almost lifeless. In her hands, she carried a small wooden box. She set it down as she pulled a chair over and stood up on it.

The woman carefully removed a tile from the ceiling. She reached up and set the box inside, then replaced the tile, sealing it away. She stared up at it for a moment, but her eyes were vacant, as if she wasn't really seeing anything. The rest seemed to happen in slow-motion. Helen went to the kitchen, where a long piece of rope was sitting on the table, waiting. In very deliberate motions, she crossed the floor and picked it up, then went into the spare room, where she stood on another chair, reaching up and taking hold of a low-hanging beam in the ceiling near the doorway. Loki recognized it—it was still there. He'd always wondered about the structure of that particular room; it must have been older décor because it didn't quite match the rest of the apartment, yet it had never been changed. Oh yes, he remembered the room well, from the first day that they had moved it. Darcy had shivered when she touched the doorknob; she walked inside for a brief moment and then came out wide-eyed. That was when she first started mentioning that there was a ghost in their home.

Helen tied an almost elegant noose, then slipped it around her pale neck. He turned away, but not before he saw her eyes one last time, that empty, empty look before the chair was kicked away, falling to the floor with a clatter and then there was nothing more.

* * *

><p>Loki woke with a start. Darcy, who was still awake, nearly dropped the lit cigarette in her hand. ''Whoa! You ok?''<p>

The god drew in a few deep breaths. Darcy now hurried over and was sitting on the bed beside him. He reached out and plucked the cigarette from her fingers and put it to his mouth, taking a long inhale before saying one word. ''Helen.'' Smoke drifted out of his mouth and hung in the air, making serpentine shapes before vanishing. He handed the cigarette back to Darcy, then continued,

''I dreamed about her. I...saw what happened. She put a box in the ceiling. Where we used to live, in Paris.''

''What box?'' she asked.

''I don't know but...I think that there's something in there that we need to see.''

Darcy stared down at the comforter on the bed, plucked at a stray strand of thread. ''So...we're going home?''

''Just for a little while.''

She barely was aware of getting on or off the next plane, the next real moment that her mind snapped into vibrant awareness was when they were unlocking the doors to the apartment that Darcy now missed more than ever, that simpler time when they had lain on their bed for hours with the window open, listening to the sound of music drifting up through the air, the carefree bubbles of laughter. Back when their ghost was just a quirky curiosity rather than an integral part of a very dark mystery.

She was waiting for them when they opened the door, waiting by the window. ''You've been gone for a long time,'' the spirt noted in her mournful, ethereal tone. Loki was almost stunned to realise that now she was completely visible to him as well. Though he had always known it, now, now, she was truly _real._

''Helen,'' Darcy said, ''Can we ask you something?''

The ghost shook her head. ''It's about that place, those pictures you had.'' She seemed to grow agitated. ''I told you not to go there!''

Unable to handle any weeping from Helen at this moment, Darcy quickly rushed on. ''I know, I know, Helen, and I'm sorry, but we did, and if you care about us at all, you need to help us.'' She paused, swallowed. ''I know that you were going to marry Joe Haven. I know that your father was Lord Stanwell Walters, and I know about the books he used to collect. And now we need to know whatever it is that you may be able to tell us about what happened to those pages that were stolen. Helen, _please_, I'm begging you, help us. You _must_ know something!'' There was a weary, almost tearful desperation in Darcy's voice.

The spirit was utterly silent. She looked away from them and out the window for a long moment. The curtains rustled again, the breeze shivering through Helen. Then she turned back and began softly. ''They would have these...parties. At my father's house. There would be very strange things going on. My father...he...he wasn't a bad man. He just...was interested in bad things.''

''What happened with Joe?'' Loki asked. It was the first time that he and the ghost had ever spoken face to face. Helen's dead eyes unsettled him more than the god cared to admit, particularly after the dream he'd had.

Her head drooped down. ''He left me. We were going to come here together, to leave all that madness behind and start a new life! Joe was going to be an artist!'' Tears pooled in Helen's eyes, and Loki's stomach churned at the sight of the discarnate spirit beginning to cry. It was one of the worst things he'd ever seen. ''He sent me on ahead of him, told me to wait, that he'd come to me. And I waited! I waited so long...and then...nothing. His letters stopped coming. I sent more and more and they were all returned to me.'' She glared at the floor. ''And then after months of waiting I was delivered a box. There was a letter with it, from Joe. He said he wasn't coming, and that I should forget him. But it also said that I should hide the box away, never revealing it's location to anyone. That this was of the utmost importance, and if I'd ever loved him, I would do this. And so, I did.'' Helen wiped a tear away from her eyes. ''It was my last act. An act of love.'' She said the word with a spat of bile in her voice.

''He didn't leave you!'' Darcy found herself crying out. ''He _died_! He always loved you, Helen—he wanted you both to be together forever!''

Helen raised her head at this, her watery eyes widened.

''We're both dead,'' she spoke thoughtfully, after letting this sink in. ''But he's not _with_ me.'' Her expression twisted into one of pained confusion. ''I must be cursed, then. Or perhaps death gets you nowhere after all. Nothing but more of the same, endless days prattling on, such a parade of faces and noises.'' She gazed at Loki and Darcy with an abrupt, nearly loving gaze. ''You two looked different than all of the others. Like you were frozen. It was such a relief.''

''Helen,'' Darcy continued frantically, ''You're not cursed! I think...I think that you've always been here for a reason, you just didn't know it. The day that you...died...you hid a box in the ceiling. And then you went into the back room and hanged yourself. What was in the box, Helen?''

Absolute silence throughout the room and through Helen's expression, until it was drained of all color and memory, only, only broken furniture left behind and the smell of forgotten perfume faintly lingering. Hollow sunlight. Her eyes looked upwards. ''Look for yourself. It's still there.''


	12. Chapter 12

Loki stood on a chair and slowly removed one of the tiles. Dust fell like snow, landing all over Darcy's head. After a moment he climbed down, a box held in his hands. He held it warily, as if he didn't trust it, then set it on the table. They all seemed to hold their breath for a moment, even Helen. It was Darcy who made the first motion to open the box. It was latched shut, but after a few strategic whacks against the edge of the table the old rusted lock fell off easily. She opened the lid.

Inside lay a copy of ''The Picture of Dorian Gray'' by Oscar Wilde. ''My favorite book,'' said Helen, softly smiling. Darcy reached in and pulled it out. She carefully opened it and saw that it had been hollowed out. In the hollow space, there was a small stack of what looked to be extremely old parchment paper. Her heart picked up into an uncomfortable rhythm as she immediately knew what it was. ''It's the missing pages,'' she breathed as she gingerly removed them from the book-safe.

Upon closer inspection she saw that the pages weren't made of paper, it was some other material that Darcy didn't recognize. They were covered with writing, but the script wasn't anything familiar. Possibly some of the characters resembled a few of the magickal alphabets that she'd seen in the book that Loki had, but if so then they were a much older version. This language hadn't been used in a very, very long time. Perhaps there was a reason for that.

Loki had once told her that she had an aptitude for certain types of languages. Darcy wouldn't really call it an aptitude, but she was intrigued by them. Just as it had been with the runes on Asgard, she had a strange kind of faith that if she stared at the foreign words long enough, she would just know how to read them. And that had been true, though the knowing had come with a price. ''Fancy letters...'' she whispered, leaning down closer and running her fingers over the page. Darkness came swimming up. Then Darcy's eyes went black and wide, she titled forward as a terrible, burning jolt shook through her, blistering over her skin.

''Oh _dear_,'' said Helen. The spirit gave a little gasp and moved back, her hand pressed to her mouth.

''Not again,'' Darcy managed to whisper before she was lifted helplessly into the air, dragged up until she was nearly shoved against the ceiling where she writhed in pain as letters tore bloody, burning slashes across her skin. Then it was over, the sudden seizure ending abruptly, and she fell. Loki caught her before she hit the floor, watching as the letters faded, as if they were never there. Darcy sucked in a breath. ''I'm fine, put me down,'' she gasped out. With a stricken look the god set her back onto her feet and she quickly scrambled over and grabbed the paper again. Her eyes raced back and forth over the text, which she could now somehow understand.

''Oh my god...'' Darcy whispered.

''What?'' Loki demanded, hating the way that his voice shook slightly. ''What does it say? Is it the pages he needed?''

They had assumed that the missing pieces of the book that Retnick so desired contained a ritual to create full immortality without the need to continuously feed on the life force of others. But they were wrong. She let out a low gasp as she realized the full weight of what she had just read. ''It's even more than that...'' Darcy said, swallowing hard. She felt as though there were a heavy stone lodged in her throat. ''He doesn't just want to live forever...I think...I think he wants to raise the dead.'' Her stomach churned wildly at this realisation.

''The ultimate taboo,'' Loki said grimly. ''_That_ must have been why Joe really hid the pages. He knew what Retnick was going to attempt. He was going to try to bring his little girl back to life.''

''Can he do that? Is it even _possible?_'' Darcy almost found herself choking on the question.

Loki nodded slowly. ''In this case...yes. It just might be possible, now that he has the power of the land behind him. But he's going to create a dimensional collapse in the process. Retnick is growing both madder and more powerful every single day. He's going to overload his system. And when he does, it's going to rip a door into a very dark place, and every conceivable nightmare and terror will come pouring out.''

''There's another page with it,'' Darcy noticed. She picked it up and inspected it. A feeling almost like relief, or hope, flooded weakly into her heart for just a moment. ''It's a reversal spell,'' she said. ''It will forever close any portals that have been opened, send the creatures back wherever they came from and...'' she trailed off.

''And what?''

''It will reverse the immortality as well, or any...raising of the dead that had been done. It's like a fail safe,'' she realized. ''A giant kill-switch for one big machine of horror. At least whoever wrote this damn book wasn't completely stupid.'' She stared down at the pages in her hand again for a moment, then raised her eyes to meet Loki's.

''You know what this means,'' she said gravely. ''We have to go back.''

* * *

><p><strong>SHIELD<strong>

''I'm going to kill them,'' sighed Natasha, pinching the bridge of her nose. The red-haired assassin stared down at her phone with annoyance. She'd been trying to call Loki and Darcy for the better part of the day, ever since she'd gotten word that they'd returned from the assignment without checking in with her. ''I swear, I'm going to kill them.''

''I understand, Ma'am,'' Andrews said soothingly, handing her a cup of coffee, ''but didn't you say that they did have a tendency to go off-book? This can hardly be a surprise to you. I know that you trust them...so...why don't you trust that whatever they're doing now, it's for the best? You also said that they can see things others can't, and that's the very reason that you chose them for the assignment. Maybe that's exactly what happened.''

Natasha took a sip from the steaming cup. ''I know, you're right. That's not the point. I'm just...I hate to admit it but I'm a little worried about them. I don't like this, Andrews.'' She drummed her fingers thoughtfully against the desk. Though the assassin was loathe to admit it, she'd been feeling rather on edge ever since their visit to Olivia Ebert. ''Have you managed to dig up any more old case files that might be able to be traced back to the Restored Ones?''

''Not specifically to that group,'' he answered. ''But that area...there's something weird about it, there's quite a disproportionate amount of unsolved missing persons cases, dating back very far. I'll be willing to bet that if we did dug further we'd find plenty more too. We might not find another Olivia Ebert but...maybe that's a good thing.'' Andrews' eyes darkened a little and he stared nervously at the floor for a moment before he raised his head and continued, ''I mean, ma'am...it's possible that...well, maybe the Restored Ones weren't the first people to use that land for something dark. Maybe it's just...cursed.''

The Black Widow raised her eyebrows at him. ''I don't believe in curses, Andrews. But I do believe in patterns. And like the old saying, where there's smoke...'' She sighed again. ''So let's keep digging, and keep our eyes open for patterns. Any kind of connection between all the cases besides the location.''

''Yes, Ma'am,'' the young man replied with a nod. As he was walking out of the office, he seemed to remember something. His face lit up with an almost childlike excitement. ''Hey, did you know that there's going to be a total lunar eclipse day after tomorrow? And there's some kinda funky configuration or alignment happening with the planets, too...the last time it all happened together like that was over seventy years ago.''

''No Andrews,'' Natasha answered, smiling gently at his enthusiasm. ''I didn't know that.''

* * *

><p>Darcy felt raw and off-balance, yet charged with a restless energy that seemed to lick at her skin like fire, keeping her moving. She looked around the apartment, almost beginning to cry because she wanted to stay so badly. She almost wished that there were some sort of spell that they could cast around themselves that would cause them to forget everything that had happened and start over fresh. This seemed to be her eternal dream, that forgetting. One desire that burned stronger than all the others was the desire to exist quietly with Loki in a place where they would never be disturbed. What made her heart ache now so that she could barely breathe was the realization that they'd almost had it. Here, in this place, they had been happy, at peace. Chaos hadn't found them, not until she opened the door. Darcy hated herself for ever agreeing to the assignment.<p>

Helen had silently slipped away, she seemed to need time to herself to process everything that had just happened. Or perhaps she also sensed that Loki and Darcy also needed to be alone. The curtains in the window fluttered, as if reaching out. For one moment earlier in the day there had almost been sun but now the clouds were back in the sky, clustering unhappily. Very carefully, Darcy put the pages back inside the book-safe and then set it in the box again.

Loki, who had been watching her pensively for some time, said ''I have to tell you something.''

''What?'' she asked. The grim look in his eyes troubled her.

The god seemed to hesitate just a little, then began. ''I went to headquarters yesterday morning while you were packing. I...destroyed the vials of our blood that were there.''

Darcy raised her eyebrows at him. ''Ok...'' She could tell by his expression and the tone of his voice that there was some other part to this story, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to hear it.

''Jane was there,'' he continued. ''She saw me do it. I...I made sure of that. I'm afraid I made it very clear that I knew what she was planning and that it would be a very large mistake.''

''Oh, Loki...'' Darcy sighed, shaking her head in frustration. ''You didn't need to do that! Jane wasn't actually going to try anything with that blood, I don't think. She was just stressed out and talking crazy. I had things mended pretty well...'' she trailed off, her voice weak and sad now.

He moved close and put his hands on her arms, forced her to look him in the eyes when he said, ''I don't want you to see me be awful. But sometimes things need to be done and I'm the only one willing to be cruel enough to make them happen.'' Despite the truth of that statement, Loki couldn't help but feel terrible once he saw the tears that she was trying to hide. He let her go and walked alone into the other room.

As he passed by the mirror that hung on the wall in the bedroom he thought he saw something strange out of the corner of his eye, a kind of dark shadow moving across the glass. Loki paused and ventured closer. Quicker than he could blink, his reflection transformed and the face staring back at him was the face from his nightmare, thin and cruel and hollow-eyed. And then it was gone and it was only him again, frowning, looking far more startled and troubled than he cared to admit.

* * *

><p><strong>Scarsdale, New York<strong>

Prudence Sang hummed to herself as she made a list of supplies. She was home again for a few days, helping Selene to plan for the upcoming summer Solstice celebration that they were hosting, which was always a huge gathering. Selene had been napping in the other room. The older woman had been feeling very spacey and strange, which often happened before she had a premonition. But she'd been resting for over an hour and hadn't seen anything yet, so she decided that perhaps she'd just been working too hard. The woman got up off of the couch and headed into the kitchen to see Prudence, but after taking only a few steps, then it hit her. Usually, her everyday clairvoyance was soft and intuitive—she could get general impressions on people or places—but then other times Selene was struck with powerful migraine-like premonitions, the kind that tore through her like an enormous wave that broke against her mind. This was one of those times. The blonde-haired Witch buckled, clutching at the doorframe as the sounds and images overtook her. _The woods. Something was waking up. Yawning, creaking. There was a darkness in the sky, an old darkness. As above, so below. The trees whispered, reached. It eats moonlight. They are coming._

''Mom!'' cried Prudence, rushing over after seeing her mother slump over in the doorway, clutching her head. ''Are you alright?''

Thankfully, it was over soon. Selene stood up shakily and offered her daughter a weak smile. ''I'm ok, sweetie. I just need to sit down for a minute.''

Prudence helped her over to a chair and then handed her a glass of water. ''Did you see something?'' she asked.

Selene nodded. She opened her mouth to answer but before she could even get a word out it happened again, the glass slipping out of her hand and shattering on the floor as the images and sounds marched relentlessly across her brain with the force of a lightning bolt. It seemed to last for hours but was really only moments. When the Witch blinked her eyes open she saw Prudence crouched next to her, her face pinched and pale with worry. ''That was a bad one,'' the younger woman said, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Selene nodded, pausing a moment to let all the imagery from her vision sink in, tried to put it into some sort of context. Then she said, ''We have to go. Now.''

* * *

><p><strong>Paris<strong>

They needed to go back to Connecticut, back to that house and those waiting trees. They were leaving early the next day but first they spent one more night in their apartment, the place where they were almost free for a time. Darcy wondered if they would ever see it again once they left.

''Are you alright?'' Loki asked her. ''I think so,'' she replied. They were sitting together on the bed the way they used to do. In a happier time.

''Did it hurt when you...learned how to read that language?'' He ran his fingers along the bare skin of her arm. Darcy nodded. ''A little.''

''I wonder why it happens like that...'' he said, continuing to stroke her with his fingertips. She shivered. ''I guess that when I have to learn something very quickly...that's how information is transferred to me.''

''Yes but transferred from where?''

She shrugged. ''Does it really matter now?'' Her voice sounded so soft and sad that it made his chest hurt.

''No,'' he replied. ''I don't suppose it does.''

Exhaustion eventually won out and they both slipped down into inky sleep.

Loki could hear something like a voice, calling to him from far away. He looked down at his hands, saw that they were covered in blood. An echo of breaking glass sang through his mind. Scattered slashes of a nightmare tried fiercely to drag themselves into a coherent layout. He looked up and saw that he was now standing near the edge of that awful forest. The sky was thick with clouds and the tree branches scratched wildly at the sky. Darcy stood a few feet away from him, right by the tree line, looking beautiful as ever. He smiled and began moving towards her. As he approached, though, she started slowly backing away, then turned and began to walk more quickly. Loki followed her, called her name but she seemed not to be able to hear. Then she ran into the woods.

He woke up shaking. ''I dreamed that I lost you,'' he whispered into the darkness. She blearily mumbled something and rolled over. He lay awake and listened to her breathe.

The dream that overtook Darcy was actually pleasant. There weren't any warnings, there was no fear. She was in the woods. She lay waiting on the soft grass beneath a canopy of leaves. Light filtered down between the tree branches. Everything was very quiet. She was naked, her arms bound over her head, tied with rope, but she wasn't really trapped—there was a warm fluttering feeling in her lower belly as she lay there waiting. Then a familiar figure moved out of the shadows her eyes widened as she saw Loki approach, his skin that beautiful, dark blue colour that Darcy was so fascinated by. She'd had a secret fantasy about making love to him outside for quite some time, ever since their encounter by the sauna in Norway. And in the fantasy he was always in his Jotun form, as he had been that day. There was something so beautifully primal about being fucked out in nature, something so otherworldly. Darcy couldn't quite explain why she became so aroused by him in that state, but it let loose something wild in her. Her breathing came quicker now. She shifted her lower body, squeezing her thighs together reflexively. He looked down at her with a pure, blinding hunger, a need to devour, to lose himself in her.

Loki knelt down on the ground beside her, reached out long fingers to trace along her naked skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Darcy shivered in delight at the touch, wanted more. ''Like a painting of some myth,'' he whispered, sliding his hand down over her stomach and then lower still. ''Voluptuous maiden being taken by a monster.''

''And loving every second of it,'' she replied, a sigh in the words. She tried to slip out of her bonds, despite how strangely exciting it was to have her hands tied. ''I don't want to leave,'' Darcy then found herself saying suddenly, wanting to hold him close, drag her fingers over his cold skin. She felt the dream slipping away, even as she whispered _no, no, no,_ and tried to catch the scattering pieces and hold everything together, but the scenery slipped through her hands like water and everything changed.

Then she dreamed of the moon. It transitioned through its phases across the sky by that strange and now-familiar tree, beginning round and full and then shrinking as it began to slid into shadow, until darkness had finally swallowed it hungrily. _It eats moonlight_.

''It eats moonlight...the eclipse!'' Darcy cried as she woke with a start. ''The lunar eclipse! That must have something to do with it!'' She threw back the covers and reached for her phone, talking wildly as she tapped at the screen. ''That old man at the bar said that Retnick was talking to Lord Walters about an eclipse-that was somehow important.'' Her eyes grew wide as she read. ''And now its happening again.'' She looked up at Loki, who was now sitting up beside her, his sleep-messed dark hair hanging into his eyes. ''The lunar eclipse. It's in less than two days. And it's not just an ordinary eclipse...there's also a major planetary alignment of some kind going on as well. It says here that the last time everything was lined up in the skies like this was...1946.''

''And right after that Anna Lily died and Retnick started sucking the life out of people to stay young,'' Loki added. ''Then he—and Ethan Montauk apparently—left and went to America.''

Darcy pondered this for a moment, chewing absently on her fingernails as she did so. ''The old guy said that he overheard Retnick talking about going 'to the woods to see 'the Reckoner','' she said, recalling their conversation at the pub the day before. ''Who or what is that?''

''Unfortunately,'' Loki answered slowly, ''I have a feeling that we're going to find out.''

* * *

><p><strong>New York<strong>

''But Mom,'' Prudence protested from the passenger seat as her mother drove, ''what do Darcy and Logan have to do with all this?'' After waking up from her vision, Selene had abruptly stated that they needed to go into the city to the headquarters of some kind of government branch that Prudence had never even _heard_ of before. The older woman been going on about something out in the woods, something that was waking up, and had specifically mentioned her daughter's former roommate and her boyfriend. Pru had seen her mother have premonitions before, but they had never prompted anything like the behaviour she was now witnessing, and the young woman was rather perplexed.

Selene's fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she spoke while trying to navigate through the rush-hour traffic. ''Sweetheart, trust me—there's more to your friends than you know. And his name isn't really Logan—it's _Loki_.''

Prudence blinked at Selene. ''As in the Norse god Loki? Ma, you _can't_ be serious.''

''I'm deadly serious. And they both may be headed for a world of trouble.''

* * *

><p>''I hate this place,'' Darcy whispered, staring up at the house of the Restored Ones, which seemed to have grown larger and more menacing in the short time that she and Loki had been gone. They were back again, and though she should have been incredibly weary after so many hours of traveling, instead she was filled with an unpleasant, jittery adrenaline. Everything was quiet, which just enhanced the rustling sound of the trees, the near-hungry murmuring of the forest. Carefully tucked away inside Loki's pocket were the missing pages from the book, except for the reversal spell, which Darcy carried with her. They had a plan. It wasn't necessarily a great one, but it was better than nothing.<p>

Retnick wasn't there at the moment, it seemed. Ethan Montauk, however, hurried around the side of the house when he saw them approach. The small man looked very pale, and not exactly thrilled to see them. ''Lugh's out,'' he said. ''Jason's been...watching over things.''

Darcy didn't waste any time. ''Ethan, the eclipse is in less than two days. Don't bullshit me, man. What is Retnick going to try to do?''

Montauk fidgeted a bit, stared down at the ground. ''He wants his daughter back. That's what he needed the book for.'' He looked pointedly at Loki as he spoke. ''Retnick didn't have the incantation, so he couldn't do it on the previous eclipse, seventy-some years ago. He knew he'd have to wait for the next one, and he knew he couldn't take any chances. He made a deal with something very powerful. And now the time's almost up. Now he has the rest of the book.'' Ethan nodded towards Loki again. ''You brought it right to him. I could smell that evil thing anywhere. Why didn't you destroy those pages when you had the chance?'' he demanded fitfully.

''You know that wouldn't have stopped this madness,'' Loki said in a firm tone, eyes flashing. ''He would have kept on bringing those poor people here and feeding them to either the gods in the circle or to whatever's out in the woods.''

Ethan toed the dirt nervously with his boot. His good eye kept darting from the edge of the trees to the house and then back again. ''Yes but you know that if he gets his hands on those pages he's going to be infinitely more dangerous than he's ever been before. And it's not just Retnick that you have to worry about, it's-''

Just then Jason came walking calmly towards them, across the yard. ''I was wondering where you two had run off to,'' he said, his blue eyes glittering with a sudden intelligence that Darcy didn't trust. He no longer looked like the awkward, eager-to-please young man that they'd first met upon arriving. Some glamour seemed to have fallen away to reveal the truth beneath. ''Why don't you come inside?'' he said politely, extending a hand toward the house.

* * *

><p><strong>New York<strong>

Jane wandered unhappily across the University campus. The sky was dark with clouds, angry gray batches of them that threatened rain, but she didn't care. She knew that she should be furious with Loki for what he'd done, and she was—but beneath that fury lived a heavier emotion—a sadness so palpable that it was nearly crushing. It was a feeling of defeat. She brushed a tear away from her eye, wondered how she'd gotten to this place.

The campus was surprisingly quiet, there was nobody else around, except for a person who was walking towards her along the path. It was a man, she saw as he grew closer, tall and well-dressed, rather attractive, too. When he noticed her, he paused and smiled a little. ''Hello, Dr. Foster,'' he said, as if he'd been waiting for her. Jane looked at him curiously. ''Have we met before?'' she asked. The man shook his head. ''No, but I am familiar with your work. I'd love to discuss it with you.'' He held out a hand. ''Dr. Lugh Retnick,'' he said.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys! I hope that you are all doing well! Thank you for your wonderful reviews, here is the next chapter for you! :)**

* * *

><p><em>Breathe, keep breathing<em>

_Don't lose your nerve_

_Breathe, keep breathing_

_I can't do this alone_

-**Radiohead**

While those familiar clouds clustered overhead in the sky and the tree branches rustled as if in welcome, Jason led Loki and Darcy up the path and through the front door into the house. The door closed firmly behind them, shutting with a bang. When they reached the foyer, he turned and faced both of them. Indeed, it seemed now that this was definitely _not_ the insecure young man that they had first met upon arriving. There was a keen, dark intelligence lurking behind his eyes, it made his features sharper. With a sinking kind of realisation, Darcy knew now that he also was far older than he looked, older than Retnick or Ethan Montauk, possibly even older than Loki. Those eyes chilled her to the bone. ''Welcome back,'' he said. ''I do hope that you'll stay around for longer this time.''

Jason's stare fixed directly on Darcy and he smiled. The look felt like beetles crawling over her skin. ''I know that you both have so much potential, it would be a shame if you left before you reached it.'' He gave a glance to the clock on the mantelpiece. ''Retnick should be back later this evening. Until then, why don't you both settle yourselves in. I'll have your things taken to your old room.''

Everything about the house seemed older and darker than ever before, Darcy noticed as they silently climbed the stairs. The place seemed wrapped in some sort of a shroud. It even smelled different—like old smoke and something else that she couldn't place.

''How could we have missed it?'' she asked, sinking wearily down onto the bed.

''Well, he did a good job of hiding himself in plain sight, that's for sure,'' Loki answered. The god hadn't exactly been surprised that Jason was now revealing himself to be sinister at best; he hadn't liked the little shit from the beginning. He was just angry that he hadn't sensed the depth of the deception. They certainly hadn't counted on this, yet it did provide a few more clues as to the nature of the mystery.

''He even looks like the others, like the staff—Mary and the three girls,'' noted Darcy. ''Are they all related in some weird way?''

Loki sat down on the bed beside her. ''I don't know, but they all do have a connection to this house, this land. And that connection is stronger than Retnick's. I'm willing to bet that they were here long before him, that he made some kind of a deal with them. And it's all going to culminate at the eclipse.''

''We have to make sure those pages are safe and hidden,'' she told him. He nodded. ''I've taken care of it.'' Loki had quickly utilised one of the spells that he had used in Norway-a very powerful cloaking spell that actually created a small dimensional pocket in which things-or even people-could be temporarily stored. Nobody besides them would be able to detect the location of the pages now.

A kind of sleepiness overtook Darcy very quickly, as if she were sliding into a pool of inky liquid, weighed down so that she sank deeper and deeper. When she awoke, she was alone in the room. There was darkness outside the windows, it was evening now it seemed. She wondered how long she'd been asleep for. Everything in the house was very quiet, but that otherworldly quality to the place had only gotten stronger. The air was now so thick that you could practically chew it. Her footsteps creaked along the floor as she felt a strange pulling sensation beckoning her along. At first, Darcy wondered if she might be dreaming, her head felt so foggy. She blinked rapidly, trying to shake the cobwebs out of her mind. Finding Loki was her first priority now.

Dread crept over her skin as she walked along, a very familiar feeling that let her know that she was being watched. It was a sensation that Darcy remembered from the gates within the World Tree, when the Norns had taunted her and Loki with visions and mind games. Though she knew that something was probably waiting for her, leading her right into a trap, she resignedly continued on, knowing that the best thing to do would be to get it over with. Darcy recognized this part of the corridor, after a sharp turn at the end she found herself in the narrow hallway where she'd discovered that room—the room where she'd found Retnick's photos from the past. Sure enough, a few more steps and there it was. Soft light glowed from inside, spilling out into the hallway. And then she heard it.

The singing was soft like a hum, and it permeated the air. _''Oh dear, what can the matter be..._'' The sound seemed to be practically crawling out of the walls and floorboards. ''I really hate that fucking song,'' muttered Darcy, her mind thankfully starting to clear. The ominousness of her surroundings was not lost on her, and she mentally braced herself to be frightened. This was an old game, a tired game, one called 'Let's separate Loki and Darcy and torture them psychologically.' The Norns had invented it, and now everyone seemed to be jumping on the bandwagon.

The room was much the way she remembered it to be, yet there was a distinct electrical charge to the air. Candles burned in various holders along the wall, flooding everything in an eerie, flickering glow. She noticed Jason then, half-hidden among the shadows. He was sitting on the chair in the corner, by the covered window and the dusty old toys that still lay on the floor. Though her heart skipped several beats, Darcy forced herself to face him. His blue eyes glittered icily while he gave her an ugly smile.

''Where is he?'' she demanded. ''Where's Loki?''

''In the room with the mirrors.'' Jason replied. ''Having a little...meditation and introspection, so to speak.''

''Who are you really?'' Darcy asked warily, narrowing her eyes at him. ''Where did you come from?''

The horrid grin remained on his face while he replied. ''I came from the woods.''

''What are you doing here, pretending to be a cult member?''

He got up from the chair and paced leisurely as he spoke, a laziness in his movements, as if he had all the time in the world. ''I have a vested interest in this group and what they do. I made a bargain with Retnick. My land and its power in exchange for all the followers he collected. See, he needed their life force. The creatures wanted their bodies, so that they could walk as gods upon the earth. I want the very essence of their being.''

''Why...why would you possibly need something like that?'' Darcy's voice sounded very small.

''I don't need them. I _want_ them,'' he corrected, running his finger over the dust on the windowsill. ''There's a difference. You know, for all his sorcery, Retnick was, at his core, a scientist and a skeptic. I don't think he really believed in the idea of a soul, at least not at first.''

''What made him change his mind?''

''When I found him in England, I showed him something that had recently come into my possession,'' Jason answered cryptically. ''Something that he was very interested in.''

''Another book?''

He laughed. ''No, no. Something far more valuable.''

Darcy raised her eyebrows, motioning for him to continue. ''Ok, I give up,'' she said, the words issued with no small amount of irritation. ''We've had the necessary dramatic pause, now you can go on.''

Jason wagged a finger at her. ''My lovely impatient thing...'' he tutted, then continued just as strangely as he had begun. ''You see, not everything dies the same way.''

Darcy stared at him blankly.''I really don't know what that means, but I assume this has something to do with what Retnick is going to try at the eclipse. And guess what? He _can't_ bring Anna-Lily back from the dead. He doesn't have the pages with the ritual that he needs. I destroyed them,'' she bluffed.

A mean chuckle escaped Jason's lips, a rough hissing sound. ''No, you didn't. You hid them, and hid them very well, that's true. They will take some time to recover. But it doesn't matter.'' He studied his fingernails.

''You're wrong,'' Darcy said defiantly as she squared her shoulders. ''If Retnick doesn't have that spell, he can't bring his daughter back.''

''Oh, but that's what you don't understand,'' Jason leaned forward, shaking his head. ''Anna-Lily isn't dead, not technically.''

Her blood ran cold at this. ''What are you saying?''

''She's frozen. In both the literal and figurative senses of that term. See, Retnick knew that the cancer would kill her and there was no hope. He also knew that truly raising the dead is the most horrible and blasphemous of magicks, and nobody is ever going to actually be stupid enough to attempt it because we all know what happens then. You have a hideous abomination on your hands. The dead don't come back the way they were. _Ever_.'' Jason walked over and straightened one of the picture frames inside the open cabinet. ''But Retnick was intelligent. And he just happened to be a pioneer in the field of experimental cryogenics. He only needed everything to be exactly right. That's where I came in. And we made our deal. He would have the time that he needed until the next eclipse, and I could keep building my Palace of Souls. I kept Anna-Lily's spirit safe, as I promised.''

''But then...where's her body?'' The grimness of the question was almost overpowering, Darcy's stomach hurt as she asked it.

Jason waved a hand in the air as if it were somehow irrelevant. ''That's not for you to know or worry about. What happens with that child is no concern of yours.''

So he was keeping the little girl's soul-and god only knew how many others- imprisoned in some kind of weird limbo. Darcy dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, forced restraint into every cell of her body.

''Retnick summoned me forth long ago, in his daughter's final days,'' Jason continued on with the story. ''It was accidental, of course, but I could sense the sadness in him, the wanting. That wanting is powerful magick in and of itself. I knew that we had the chance to form a mutually beneficial relationship.''

''You took advantage of him because he was vulnerable and desperate, you mean,'' Darcy shot back.

Jason nodded. ''Vulnerable and desperate men are capable of some very dark things. He was also incredibly intelligent and calculating. He wasn't exactly a _saint_ before I found him, he was quite a bastard actually. Lugh always wanted power over life and death, and he thought that power lay with science and medicine, but then he turned from them when they could offer no hope for him. See, Ethan Montauk was right about one thing—he used to say that monsters were the most in need of love. It calms them for a while. But nothing lasts forever. Whatever else he might have been, Retnick _was_ a good father. That little girl was the first and probably the only person who really loved him because she didn't know any better. She wasn't aware of all the darkness in his past—all those experiments that he performed without consent, all the people he hurt, the rumoured ties to Hydra—no. No, all that dear Anna-Lily could see was the man who had protected her in her darkest moments of fear and abandonment, who gave her a new home and family. And there is a kind of peace in that—that beautiful innocence, that clean slate. But then...then what happens when the best thing about you is suddenly...yanked away?''

Jason traced a hand down Darcy's neck. She shuddered at the contact, repulsed, yet forced herself to hold still. ''What's left then...is always a thousand times more monstrous than what was there before. Love is a very dangerous thing.''

''So you...what...steal souls?'' she asked in a trembling voice, wishing fervently that he would back away.

He shook his head. ''I don't steal them, I collect them. And only from the people who wish to be taken, one way or another.''

Darcy glared at him. ''I don't understand this crap that you keep saying about people secretly wanting this, and having all these desires when they clearly do _not_. Either people want something, or they don't—it's not so gray and blurred as you keep making it out to be.''

He cocked his head to the side and studied her with his pale eyes. ''No, darling. I was never the one who made it out to be gray and blurred. It's always perfectly clear to me. You...all of you, gods and mortals and everything in between, you all try to pretend to understand your motivations, but you are lying to and deluding yourselves. The truth is the one thing you always hide the most when it is uncomfortable.''

The _truth_ was that Darcy thought Jason was a simpering little toad with an ego problem and a flair for dramatic speeches, just like most of the other power-hungry creatures that she'd met. He _was_ powerful, though, and very old, so she decided that for now it was best to not anger him too much. She really, _really_ hated it when he called her 'darling,' though—only Loki was allowed to do that. Jason let her go for a moment and stepped back, though he remained uncomfortably close.

''To answer your first question, I'm not 'Jason' as you know him, though you may continue to refer to me that way if it pleases you. The title by which most know me is 'The Reckoner,' though I'm not sure how that one began. It does have a nice ring to it though, doesn't it?'' He gave her another grin, which immediately sent a tremor of revulsion through Darcy. ''Truth be told, I don't really have a name, not one that you would understand, anyway.''

''And your...body?'' she wondered unpleasantly. ''Is this what you really look like?''

He laughed. ''Oh dear, no. I've found it necessary to...borrow other forms from time to time to make my stay here more comfortable. I'm not entirely certain who this fellow was, I came across him very long ago, during the time when there was some sort of a revolution going on here. Bloodied soldiers in the woods, little more than boys, musket fire. I remember that there was a song in his mind, right before he was about to die, a sad little tune. It sounded so lonely. And then I heard it again, when sweet Anna-Lily was only hours from death. Lugh sang it to her. And she still sings it, in the Palace of Souls. Even in this house if you listen closely you can always hear it.''

''Johnny's so long at the fair,'' Darcy whispered. It was a song all about waiting.

Jason gave her a nod. ''Yes, that's the one. Now, as to your question about what I do, I keep the balance. Someone always must, particularly now that the Norns are...well, I'm sure you know all about that. I'm almost as old as they were, if you can believe it. See _you_, my dear, are now something of a famous curiosity throughout all the worlds. The Liesmith's wife,'' he said with a sneer. ''You aren't supposed to exist. Not with _him_, the way that you are. You like to read. I'm sure you remember Plato's story—in the beginning, powerful creatures existed, two souls sharing a kind of unity that most now can't even possibly understand. And then the gods grew jealous and angry, as gods are wont to do, and they broke them apart.''

As Jason spoke he reached out and grazed his knuckles over Darcy's face. Against her will, she began to cry. ''Because that's the way it should be. You were almost a goddess, a living myth. I can still sense some whisper of her there if I lean close enough. I can smell tears and darkness and sorrow.'' He trailed a finger softly along her cheek. ''Wouldn't you love to forget again? To go back to that peaceful place and let time swallow all the rest for you. Wouldn't you like to stay there?''

She didn't reply, she couldn't, she was in too much shock to even breathe properly. Though Jason had always looked at her with a weird sort of admiration, she'd never dreamed that she would have such a...personal involvement with this place. She'd thought naively that she and Loki were somehow outside of all the madness, acting as detached observers. But they'd somehow been part of it from the beginning. Darcy felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach.

''Everyone wants something,'' Jason said, repeating that awful refrain that she had come to despise. ''And I want you. Just you. Not that monster who has attached himself to you. You deserve so much more than that. You shouldn't be a weeping, broken-hearted goddess walking over grave stones for thousands of years, growing ever so lonely and bitter, wishing that you'd never met him. Because that's what _will_ happen, I promise you. He's cursed you, trapped you, bewitched you. But I can make it better.'' He gave her such a disturbingly affectionate look that Darcy was almost sick. ''_Stop,'' _Jason continued. ''Stop holding on to him. You can't save him, or help him. And somehow you know that. Loki needs to be who he really is. And for that to happen, I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me.''

* * *

><p>Leaving Darcy sleeping upstairs, Loki had headed down to the first floor to do some investigating. There was a deceptive stillness in the air, a stillness that was abruptly cut with the sound of humming coming from behind one of the doors down the hall. He recognised it immediately-it was the door to the room with the mirrors. <em>Of course<em>, he thought to himself. The whole house was coming alive just to fuck with them. He'd expected nothing less. Opening the door, he stepped in. As he did, the sound abruptly ceased. Loki glared around sharply, and at first the movements of his reflection followed as normal, but then after a moment they shifted. The dark flutter of a shadow passed over the glass and then it changed. Those dead, empty eyes that had been haunting him stared back. The face in the mirror chuckled, and the sound reverberated all around him, an awful echo.

''Hello again,'' the reflection said. ''Come back for more enlightenment?''

''I've had more than enough for a lifetime, thank you,'' he responded coldly.

The face smirked. ''And what about her?''

Loki kept his composure. He knew that this was little more than an advanced sort of parlour trick. The god was many things—selfish, self-loathing—but he was nothing if not self-aware. And he knew what his own reflection looked like. Though he would admit to being thrown ever so slightly off-guard during their first stay at the house, he'd had his suspicions about the subtle games that were being played with him and Darcy. These suspicions were now being confirmed. Whatever was lurking inside that mirror was certainly malevolent, but it wasn't him, or any part of him. This thing claimed to be his shadow, or some dark and buried side of his personality, but it was really just an illusion. ''What _about_ her?''

''Well, I think that perhaps you both came here for a reason. That this is where she belongs. And that on some level, you both know that.'' The face behind the glass moved closer, smiling encouragingly.

''Tell her you made a mistake. Tell her that you don't want her anymore. It's the right thing. Look,'' it said, its elegant hand gesturing in the air, ''look at everything that she's lost since she met you. And you know all the sadness and loss that she's going to have to endure yet. All because you wanted to feel close to something beautiful and innocent. Because you wanted to feel love, that _real_ love, just for a moment. But you, you wanted that moment to last forever. And it can't. This will be a neat, clean break. It won't hurt her, not a bit. She won't remember a thing, once she wakes up in the Palace of Souls. She'll be safe there, because you know what's coming. This world doesn't belong to the humans, anymore. They've had their time, as all things do. Those who will be Restored shall be Vessels, and all the rest...well...'' he shrugged. ''But there is a place for you in this new world, a great place, a great purpose. And all you have to do is let her go. I promise, you will both feel so much better.''

* * *

><p>Though she was nearly overcome with blind fear, she pushed it away as best that she could. Darcy's heart pounded so hard that she was dizzy. She tried to formulate a plan in her terrified mind. The first thing was that she needed to find Loki. The Reckoner had said something about the room with the mirrors. She remembered it briefly from that morning circle soon after they'd arrived, it was downstairs.''You stay away from me!'' she ordered Jason, backing away and then breaking into a sprint and darting out of the room. She ran quickly, turned the corner. A weird flutter of vertigo swarmed over her body and then Darcy gasped in disbelief and frustration when she realized that she'd simply gone round in a circle and found herself in the same place.<p>

Jason stood there with that awful smile still spread across his face. ''Now, now, darling, don't fight. It will all be better soon.'' He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her close, so close that she could feel his breath on her face. ''Once he's out of your blood for good, you will be safe. Safe and well in the Palace of Souls, where you can have the peace that you so desire.''

Darcy could feel something happening to her now, that familiar energy beginning in encouraging waves at her toes and working its way up. If only, if only she could _control_ it somehow, the way that she'd controlled her telekinesis. But this was something primal and much stronger than her—it defied control. But she could try. Anger blistered through her as she stared at Jason's face, the power of the Well continued its ascent and Darcy could feel it—but she forced her consciousness not to slip away at all this time, to hold on through the possession. It had reached her head, she knew that her eyes were black now, her skull felt too full, almost like she was about to explode. The pressure was terrible, yet somehow invigorating.

Jason backed up slightly, his eyes narrowing. She saw the bob of his Adams apple as he swallowed nervously. With the Well inside of her, Darcy could see the glamour falling away further, looked behind the flesh and bone of his stolen form to the true face of the Reckoner, an endless, terrifying chasm. She felt fear, but the Well didn't. Steeling her resolve, she forced herself to focus. He was trying to take her from Loki, to rip her away from the other half of herself, the one thing that she loved more than anything else in the universe. And she wasn't going to let that happen. Neither was the Well, it seemed.

''_I don't want peace_,'' Darcy rasped. They were her words, but not her voice. ''I only want him.'' She moved forward, her feet like fire. ''You won't take me from him!'' she screamed, the power of the sound startling. ''Ever!'' Her hand reached out, a fiery scar now visible on her palm, the ring on her finger glowing. Jason was abruptly thrown back several feet, crashing against the wall and then falling heavily to the floor. He wouldn't be down for long, she knew, but it was enough to disorient him so that she could run. Realising that she didn't have much time, already feeling the Well beginning to leave her, Darcy turned and ran as fast as she could, down the stairs.

* * *

><p>''Get away from me,'' Loki hissed at the reflection.<p>

''In case you haven't noticed,'' the face in the mirror laughed, ''I _can't_. Because I _am_ you. I am the truth underneath the cloak of lies you've wrapped around yourself. You almost believe it, you_ actually_ almost believe that you are somehow worthy of love, that you are changing.'' It leaned closer again. ''But you haven't changed, not one bit. Underneath, you're still as much of an evil, lying, manipulative, power-hungry bastard as you ever were. Everything good about you right now, all those soft, nice, warm feelings—that's all _her._ You're just a parasite. Oh, I'd love to rip her away from you just for a moment so that she could see for the first time what you really are at your core, how rotten. To let that enchantment fall away from her eyes, to watch the disgust pour over her pretty face one she sees, once she _knows_ what you were all along. Because only then will you finally understand. You are meant to rule, not to love.''

''That's not true,'' the god replied. His voice was very stony and quiet.

''Isn't it though?'' the mirror answered with a mocking sympathy. ''You don't know how to love. You know how to fuck well enough, but that you can learn. To love is something that can't be taught.''

''I love her,'' Loki said, raising his head to glare daggers at his own reflection. It blinked, looked ever so slightly off-kilter, as if it was mildly startled.

''You never told her,'' it argued, its voice wavering just a bit.

Loki reached down and pulled out the dagger that he'd been carrying. The eyes in the mirror followed his movements. The reflection now looked distinctly uncomfortable. ''I don't need to tell her,'' he answered evenly, pressing the blade down against the palm of his hand, activating a spell. While they were still in Paris, he and Darcy had performed a very old and very powerful ritual, a kind of blood and soul bonding. It was like a marriage, in a sense, but it was eternal, and could never be broken, not even by death. They would never be apart. Of course, death would eventually come for them like all other creatures. Now, they _would_ die at the same time. The blade slowly cut into his skin, a small sliver of red appeared. ''What is her name, by the way?'' On the wall, the reflection inside the mirror shook. ''What?'' it asked.

''Her _name_,'' Loki said calmly. ''You just keep saying 'she' and 'her'. You could be talking about anyone. But by the threatening tone of your voice, and your apparent deep desire to get under my skin, I assume that you're talking about my wife. So...what's her name? Say it, if you know, and then perhaps I'll consider what you have to say.'' He saw it seem to stutter, its mouth moved in the shape of an L as if it wanted to say 'Lucy' but then it said nothing, just gave a hiss of frustration.

''No, not Lucy. Her _real name._ Say it!'' He leaned close to the mirror now, eyes burning. The reflection glared back but didn't make a sound. ''No? Nothing.'' Loki frowned mockingly. ''You were ever so loquacious before.'' The god sighed. ''_She_ knows that I love her...that I love her terribly, fiercely...endlessly.'' He dug the blade in deeper. The reflection slunk back a bit. ''And if you really were me, you would know that too. I'll give you credit, you are good.'' He smiled as blood began to trickle down his hand. The mirror started to crack, the illusion breaking. ''But I'm still the best.''

* * *

><p><strong>Paris, the day before<strong>

_''Do you remember when we were staying in that hotel in Norway, before we went to see Heid?'' Loki asked._

_Darcy nodded. _

_''And we noticed that there was some sort of...interference going on, that something was trying to pull you and I apart,'' he continued. ''I think that's what's been happening again. We're going off balance. We're getting lost.'' He looked down for a moment. ''I've been having some very strange dreams, and visions.''_

_''Me too,'' she replied honestly. ''I never told you this but...I dreamed about Anna-Lily before I even knew she existed, before we ever set foot in that house. And her spirit has appeared to me personally more than once.''_

_''Everything on that land is too intelligent, even the trees. **Especially** the trees,'' remarked Loki._

_''But it was so strange, though,'' Darcy's voice was thoughtful. ''Because there were moments when we were so close together and...''_

_''And then we'd start falling away from each other again,'' he added with a nod. ''I'm starting to think that was some sort of a test. They're always spouting all that garbage about desire, how everyone wants something. I think that place has a kind of way of finding out what your greatest desire is. And then it uses it against you.''_

_Darcy sighed. ''Look, if we go back to that house, we need to have a plan. Because it's all still there, happening, in fact it might be getting worse. We're getting closer and closer to the eclipse.''_

_''I know. But first, there's something that I want to ask you.''_

_Loki reached out and took Darcy's hand. She looked into his eyes, which were very green. ''There was a moment where I experienced what it would be like to lose you. And I refuse to ever feel that way. There is a very, very powerful ritual that exists, a kind of blood-and-soul bonding. It's...almost similar to what I did to link your mind to mine, but yet not. I wasn't entirely sure what I was really doing then, the connection grew and evolved on its own. And while stronger than any that has existed before, it remains fragile, in a sense. While more than human, we aren't invulnerable to death. I could be killed, or vice versa. And then...''_

_''Then the other one will probably go insane,'' Darcy supplied in a grim voice. ''I know. I don't want to think about it.''_

_''Neither do I, but we have to, and that's why I'm telling you about this ritual. It would bind us together completely and eternally. It cannot be broken or revoked, ever. It is also stronger than death. Which means that...''_

_''Not even death can separate us,'' she realised wonderingly. ''If I were to die, then you would die too. At the same time.''_

_''It's a very big decision, and I understand if you don't want to.'' Loki's voice was almost nervous as he spoke. ''The magnitude of this...there's a reason why it's very rarely performed.''_

_Darcy had also felt for one moment what it would feel like to lose him. And that was something that she simply wasn't willing to risk, either. For better or worse they were both in deep, deeper than they'd ever imagined. ''I want to. I do. I will. Loki, I understand what this means.'' She squeezed his hand. He smiled, looking almost relieved._

_''Where did you find this ritual anyway?It wasn't in that creepy library at Lord Walters house was it? Or did you find it at Retnick's?'' she asked jokingly. _

_Loki shook his head. ''No. A...friend gave it to me. She suggested that it would be a good idea, but that I should wait for the right moment.''_

_''A friend?'' Darcy asked curiously._

_He reached down and then pulled out the dagger that he was always carrying, two serpents twining around the handle. _

_''Heid,'' she laughed, looking down at the gold ring on her finger. ''Tricky old lady.''_

_Before they began the ritual, Loki did a very unusual thing. He went around to each room and removed all of the mirrors. Then he covered each one with a dark cloth and carried it out and down the stairs, leaving it on the street to be taken away with the trash. ''Why are you-'' she began. ''It's just a precaution,'' he told her. ''We can get new mirrors when we come back.''_

_They lit candles and sat down on the floor in the bedroom, facing each other. Loki materialized a small, very old piece of paper covered in runic script. ''It's fairly simple, really. All it requires is the dagger, the ring, and a little bit of our blood. Are you ready?''_

_Darcy nodded. ''Alright,'' he said, then took a breath, laying the paper out on the floor between them. ''Give me your hand.''_

_The energy in the room shifted palpably, grew thicker, cloaking them, guarding them. It was as if the whole space was acting as a witness. She watched as the candlelight sent shadows playing delicately over Loki's face._

_''I'll read first and then you repeat after me,'' he explained, then gave her hand a squeeze and then began to read aloud.''Not illness, nor injury, nor the hands of men or gods, shall ever break this bond.'' He pressed the knife down onto the palm of her hand. It hardly hurt at all as a slice of red appeared and then a small trickle of blood ran along her skin. She watched it travel slowly along until it reached the ring on her finger. Then Loki handed the dagger to Darcy. Drawing in a deep breath she repeated, ''Not illness, nor injury, nor the hands of men or gods shall ever break this bond.'' She brought the blade down against the palm of his beautiful hand, making a cut that began to slowly seep red. He didn't even flinch; he never took his eyes from hers._

_Now they spoke together, their voices echoing throughout the room. ''Not time. Not death. It is timeless, it is deathless, it is eternal.''_

_''It is eternal, sealed in blood.'' As their words melded together Loki pressed the bleeding palm of his hand against hers. A tear ran down Darcy's face. She could feel a distinct energy flowing between them, a burning sensation that wound its way all through her being, permeating every cell. _

_''We're forever,'' she said, staring down at the cut on her palm. She felt so relieved._

_''Forever,'' he agreed. Then he kissed her._

* * *

><p>As she ran, though she knew it probably wouldn't help much, Darcy cast a protective spell over herself, mentally tracing runes into her aura to reinforce its barriers and to make her less visible. Soon she'd reached the door to the room with the mirrors. Before she could reach for the handle, it opened and Loki emerged. She caught a glimpse inside and saw that the floor was covered in a hail of glass. He stepped out and shut the door firmly. Darcy practically launched herself into his arms. ''I think this all just got waaaay too personal,'' she whispered. He held her tightly, sighing, ''I know,'' and running a hand over her hair. They were caught in a web again.<p>

''You're bleeding,'' she said, pulling away and looking down at his hand. He nodded. ''It'll heal in a moment. At least now I know that the ritual worked.''

Just then there came the sound of footsteps behind them. Darcy clutched at Loki's hand, sure that it was Jason. Instead, a familiar yet unwelcome voice said, ''You're not supposed to be here,'' and they both turned to see Retnick scowling at them. ''I tried to help you. I offered you a chance,'' he spoke in an aggravated tone. ''Now it's too late.''

Meanwhile, far out in the woods, still locked in her cell, Penelope glanced up towards the window and smiled. She looked around at the others, who had begun to move restlessly behind their bars. ''Soon,'' she announced to all of them. ''Very soon.''


	14. Chapter 14

_Oh there is no use in loving the dying_

_I have tried but you can't_

_You just can't guard the dead_

_You are the watchman and you_

_Can't keep the gate shut_

**-Anne Sexton**

**SHIELD**

Andrews came rushing into the room, looking exhausted.

''Dr. Foster's gone AWOL again,'' he related with a wheeze. ''Still no response from either Loki or Darcy?'' Natasha shook her head gravely, then rested it on the palm of her hand and closed her eyes. ''Shit,'' she muttered.

''Another thing, Ma'am. There's two women here to see you. The one says that she has information about them...and about the Restored Ones.''

The redhead opened her eyes raised her head in interest.''Escort them in, please,'' she instructed.

A few moments later Andrews returned with two women; the older, taller one was fair and willowy, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, the younger had a smooth olive complexion and was far more exotic-looking than the other, though Natasha could immediately see that they were related, probably mother and daughter. The young girl looked a little out of her element, she appeared very perplexed and kept glancing around nervously. The blonde just seemed determined, yet there was something troubled in her eyes. They were dressed like hippies, the Black Widow noted. 'This should be interesting', she thought to herself.

The tall one began to speak first. ''Hello, my name is Selene Sang and this is my daughter Prudence. We've come here because I think I might be able to help with one of your cases.''

Natasha cocked an eyebrow at her. ''I see. And just which case might that be?''

The woman didn't bat an eyelash, didn't cower at all under the assassin's intimidating stare. ''You sent two of your agents to investigate the Restored Ones. Darcy Lewis was Prudence's roommate in college. She and...Loki...came to our house in Scarsdale a few weeks ago for help with what Darcy told us was research for a book she was writing. She mentioned the Restored Ones specifically, which set off some alarm bells in my head.''

''And why is that?''

''I grew up not too far from that place,'' explained Selene. ''I'd heard all the ghost stories. The true ones were the scariest.''

''It has the highest rate of unexplained disappearances in the Tri-State area,'' noted Natasha.

Selene nodded. ''And do you know why that is?''

The Black Widow's eyes met Andrews' for a moment and then she looked back at the blonde woman.''We assumed that it had something to do with the group.''

''Yes, it does, but there's so much more than that, which is why we've come here. Now that whole place is a kind of ticking energetic time bomb.''

Natasha raised her eyebrows at this. ''Could you...be more specific, please?''

''There's going to be a total lunar eclipse in less than twenty four hours, as well as a very strange and rare planetary alignment,'' Selene replied. ''I...I believe that there is going to be a massive collision between dimensions occurring at that time, on that land, via a portal.''

''I see. And how exactly is it that you know this?''

''I'm clairvoyant,'' the woman answered, bluntly and without hesitation. ''I received a vision of what's going to happen. That's also how I knew to come and find you.''

Natasha folded her hands, considered this strange statement. It was definitely one she hadn't heard before. ''If you are really clairvoyant,'' she said to Selene, ''prove it. Tell me something that only I would know.''

Prudence now looked very annoyed, exclaiming, ''Hey it doesn't really work that way, she's not a circus act!''

''No, no, it's ok, honey,'' Selene calmly told her daughter. Then she stared right at Natasha for a long, long moment. Her eyes rolled upwards ever so slightly and she suddenly looked far away, as if she were staring into a dream. Then she blinked and said, ''_Dreykov's daughter, Sao Paulo, the hospital fire_. Loki said this to you once, it was the one time he really got to you. He told you that you...'' Selene paused, closed her eyes as if she was trying to concentrate. ''He was behind glass, or trapped inside of something...I can hear his voice telling you...that _you lie and kill in the service of liars and killers_. Somewhere, deep inside, there was a single moment when you knew he was right, but you pushed it away as hard as you could.'' The woman drew in a deep breath, looked drained and exhausted.

Andrews glanced over at Natasha, wide eyed. He seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

The red haired woman was deathly silent, her face pale and devoid of expression. Andrews couldn't tell if she was furious or sorrowful, she could have been both or neither. There was just...nothing, and this utter blankness threw him a bit. In all his many months of working beside her, he'd never seen her look like that. The blankness disappeared like a curtain being pulled back, and Natasha looked at Selene and nodded. ''How can you help us?''

* * *

><p><strong>Connecticut<strong>, **less than twelve hours to the eclipse****  
><strong>

At the moment, Jason was nowhere to be seen. Once Retnick had returned, he'd slipped away somewhere, ceasing his attack on both Loki and Darcy, albeit temporarily. The house, though, continued to come malevolently alive and aware, and so did its apparent servants. Darcy noticed that the three serving girls from the kitchen were all once again facing the curious stained glass windows in the dining room as they had been the night of Penelope's Restoration, not moving at all. Yet once they heard her footsteps, in a single swift motion they turned to face her.

Despite the chill that ran through her, Darcy forced her voice not to waver as she asked the three women,''Who are you?'' They all continued staring with their odd blue eyes, standing in a neat line by the window.

''_We own this land_,'' they spoke at the same time, their mouths closed. Darcy heard the sound inside her own head, the three of them in unison, their voices equally girlish and menacing.

''Where did you come from?'' she tried again.

''_We've always been here._'' Then they turned and faced the window again.

Darcy backed out of the room and met Loki in the hallway. The two had made a pact to stay close together as much as possible for this last, fateful day and whatever it might bring come nightfall. He was about to tell her something when suddenly Retnick came striding down the corridor towards them, looking oddly manic.

''Come here,'' he told them both, leading them to the door to the parlour. Hesitantly, they followed him and paused there, staring at the closed wooden door. Looking up, Darcy noticed this particular doorframe for the first time. It was covered in a strange, faintly etched marking. She squinted at it, trying to make it out, but the words were too faded to read. ''There is something that I want to show you,'' Retnick explained. Once he opened the door, Darcy saw that the leader had not returned to the house alone.''There has to be one final exchange, a powerful one,'' he told them. ''In order for Anna Lily to return to me, someone must take her place in the Palace of Souls. And I was ever so fortunate to find a willing candidate. I could hear her soul crying out from miles away. It's just as I said before—I have no use for either of _you_,'' he added. ''But your friend will do so very nicely. I've never seen anyone quite so eager. Not since my dear Penelope.'' He laughed, a wicked, mean sound that cracked at the edges like glass. His eyes burned darkly.

Darcy clamped a hand down over her mouth to keep from crying out in horror. Inside the room, Jane sat very pale and still in a large chair, a dazed look in her eyes and a strange smile on her face. Memories of their time on Asgard flooded back to Darcy, her friend's expression reminding her of that night she'd found Jane out in the garden all alone, singing to herself in the darkness. She moved to rush into the room but was abruptly blocked by some kind of energetic barrier. ''Now, now,'' the leader tutted, shaking a finger at her. ''None of that. Don't disturb her.'' As if blown by a huge gust of wind from inside the room, the door slammed heavily shut.

''I hesitated at first,'' admitted Retnick. ''But her desire was so great, I couldn't refuse her.''

One word, a tearful breath, that was all Darcy could manage. ''No.''

''We've already come much too far for 'no', '' he told her, his voice now changing, growing strangely melancholy.

She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands as she rounded on him, shouting, ''You kidnapped her! You drugged her with something and dragged her here!''

Retnick shook his head emphatically. ''I did no such thing. I merely offered an invitation. And the lovely Dr. Foster accepted. She looked ever so sad when I came across her, wandering alone with tears in her eyes, looking like a lost child.''

''Something's wrong with her!'' protested Darcy insistantly. ''She's not herself—look at her! That's not the Jane I know!''

The leader remained infuriatingly calm. ''Do you really know her?'' he asked. ''Do you truly understand what's in her heart? Something tells me that you don't.''

Loki had to physically restrain Darcy as she lunged at Retnick, who merely turned and walked away as if she wasn't worth his time. She struggled a little, then let go, her limbs crumpling as if she had no strength left. Then she let out a scream, a primal sound of pained frustration.

''It's alright, love,'' the god attempted to soothe her, though his voice shook. ''It'll be fine. Once we can use the reversal spell, she'll be herself again.''

''How could she have believed him? It's insanity, why did she go?'' Darcy was crying now, tears spilling down her face rapidly. It was a heartbreaking sight for Loki. ''She's a _scientist_, a rational person! She's not supposed to..''

''To what? Have feelings?'' he cut in gently. ''Just because Jane is brilliant doesn't mean she doesn't have emotions and desires the same as you. She's _jealous_ of you, and frightened. She feels like she's losing everything that she's known and held dear. And she hates me all the more, because she thinks that I don't deserve to be alive, let alone with you. I don't think she likes the idea that_ I_ can feel, either.''

''Fuck this,'' she muttered through gritted teeth. ''Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!'' Ceasing her tirade of profanity, Darcy stalked towards the doors leading to the yard. ''I need some fresh air,'' she told Loki.

He knew that she also needed some space, but he wasn't about to let her go out there completely alone, so he stood on the porch and watched her walk over the grass, as he had the first day that they had arrived. The god wanted to growl in frustration. He'd been just as unpleasantly shocked as Darcy to see Jane sitting in the parlour like a blank little doll. Some small part of him felt responsible. If he hadn't made such a bold, cruel statement that day when he smashed the vials, she might never have been driven to something so desperate as putting her faith in a mad sorcerer.

Darcy stopped in the middle of the yard, halfway between the house and the path that led into the woods. She sank down and the lay out on the ground and closed her eyes, listened to see if perhaps the earth could answer a question that she didn't know how to ask. There was a feeling beyond weariness in her blood, her whole being felt hollow and echoey. Then she heard soft footsteps approaching, closer and closer. Opening her eyes, she saw Ethan Montauk staring down at her. A feeling of deja vu crawled over her skin as Darcy abruptly got to her feet, as she did so she realised that her face was wet with tears, which she quickly brushed away. ''Well, here we are again,'' he said.

Ethan gave her a very soft, sympathetic look. Then he looked toward the woods. ''You asked me once before what was out there. I pretended not to know exactly because I didn't want you to be frightened.'' He laughed. ''I suppose it's much too late for that now.'' The small man shook his head and stared down at the ground, then up again and over towards the trees. ''It's like a path into a nightmare. It's as though time literally stops somewhere in those woods. Like space, like a vacuum. As if no matter how loudly you screamed the outside world would never hear you, never even know to be looking for you.''

''And then what happens?'' asked Darcy, in a voice that sounded too small to be hers.

''Eternity,'' he replied. Then he added, ''I once thought it would be nice, to remain young for so long, watch the world change, have enough time to see what the future would hold.'' He gave a sigh at this confession. ''It's really nothing but more of the same.''

''You were the one who left the coordinates in the notebook,'' Darcy suddenly realised. ''How did you do it? They were-''

''Cloaked, yes,'' Ethan finished for her. ''I've been following Retnick in this bizarre endeavor for over seventy years, don't you think I've learned a thing or two about magick?'' He graced her with one of his lopsided smiles. ''Now granted, I'm certainly not as good as him. Or you, for that matter. You _are_ something special. And powerful. That's why I had hoped that you could possibly stop all of this. I'd assumed that if you found the pages, you would do the sensible thing and destroy them then and there. Of course it wouldn't have put an end to the madness, but it would certainly have made a dent in it. And you and your husband, or whatever he really is, would have been safe and sound and far away from here. Why did you come back?'' He asked the question imploringly, and it struck Darcy then that both Ethan and Retnick had been trying to _help_ her and Loki, albeit in very different ways.

She also realised that she didn't have a proper answer, yet still she found herself saying, ''Because I wanted to.''

* * *

><p>Darcy felt oddly calmer after her talk with Ethan, but perhaps it wasn't calm so much as a self-preserving numbness that allowed her to continue on. She was so calm in fact, that once she went back inside the house she immediately found herself walking towards Retnick's study. Loki followed after, halting her before she could reach the door. ''What are you doing?'' he asked. ''I want to talk to him,'' she replied softly. ''Alone. Don't worry, you know I'll be fine. You can wait right outside.''<p>

''Alright,'' he agreed, after seeing the determination in her eyes. Hesitantly, he let go of her arm. She knocked on the door. ''Come in,'' came the leader's voice, and Darcy turned the knob and entered.

Retnick was standing, staring thoughtfully out the window, at the blaze of setting sun now burning behind the trees. Everything felt suspended in amber, the air was almost too heavy. ''I knew a soldier once, just a scrawny little Yankee fellow, nothing special about him at all,'' the leader began. He seemed to be slipping far back into his memories to find something. ''And then a few experiments later and he was nearly superhuman, practically indestructible.'' He chuckled. ''It was like something out of an old myth, yet it was pure science. My initial goal was very much the same, but unfortunately, I didn't have access to their technology, especially after the war was over and done. And so I used what resources I had at my disposal.''

''The dark arts,'' supplied Darcy.

He turned to face her. ''Yes, dark. Darker than you can imagine. And very much an art.'' His blue eyes glittered icily.

''I suppose it's too late for me to try to reason with you,'' she said in a soft voice.

''Much too late,'' he agreed with a nod.

''I just have to ask a question. How do you know that she's really out there somewhere? How do you know that this...Palace of Souls is what the Reckoner claims that it is?''

''I've never been a religious man, or a spiritual man. I don't know that I believe in heaven, or any place like it,'' Retnick told her, a weary lucidity in his cold blue eyes . ''But I _do_ believe in eternity. And eternity can exist as a physical plane, take on different forms. It could be heaven, could be hell, could be just...nothingness. But whatever it is, it _is_ endless. It holds many hidden things.'' He paused, everything was quiet and golden and the shadows changed, the light sliding further across the floor.

''I'm sorry, dear girl,'' Retnick said, the sentiment sounding so sincere that for a moment Darcy almost believed him. ''I am. But there is an order to all things. And we must keep the balance.''

* * *

><p>Before they'd hidden it away, Darcy had related to Loki the entire text of the reversal spell. It turned out that it wasn't nearly as simple as they had anticipated; they wouldn't merely read some words off of the paper to make everything magically right itself again. This particular ritual needed to be performed on 'sacred ground,' and, of course, required a sacrifice.<p>

''I'm so, so sick of sacrifices,'' she muttered darkly. They were back in their old room again, watching as the sun dipped perilously lower and lower beneath the horizon, the light fleeing from the sky. ''At this point, I'm willing to just run to some neighbouring farm and grab a goat or something.''

Loki actually had to laugh a little at this imagery. ''It doesn't work that way, and you know it. These powers aren't going to be appeased by the blood of livestock, they want it to mean something.''

''It only hurts when it's real,'' Darcy said with a sigh. ''That old thing. I know, I know. So, what do we...sacrifice? And what exactly do they mean by 'sacred ground'?'' she wondered. ''Like a church, or something?''

''I don't think that it would necessarily have to be a _church_,'' he ventured. ''Especially given that many of the forces that we're dealing with pre-date organized religion.''

''I know_ this_ ground ain't sacred,'' she said with a sniff of disdain. ''It's definitely evil, though. So what do we do now? The eclipse is in just a few hours. What's going to happen then?''

The god grimaced a little as he began, ''From what I can tell, everything is going to happen very quickly. First the portal will be opened indefinitely, and a flood of energy will come pouring out like a solar flare. This energy, in conjunction with the eclipse and the alignment, will allow a kind of tipping point to occur. Retnick plans to take this opportunity to make his exchange—theoretically, he will have a small window of time in which to swap Jane for Anna Lily in the Palace of Souls. He's going to use, I suppose, a combination of magick and science to wake her up.''

''Do you think that he has her somewhere in this house?'' The idea of a cryogenically preserved child somewhere in their midst seemed somehow more awful a thought to Darcy than any impending dimensional rip.

''Anna-Lily? It's entirely possible...if not in the house then definitely somewhere close by. As you said when we arrived, you can hide a lot on land this big. It's definitely large enough for a small facility to house a cryonics chamber.''

''He can't do it though. He _can't_. Science isn't evolved enough to wake someone up from cryogenic sleep. I know it happened to Steve—but he's also superhuman. Anna-Lily was just a sick little girl.''

Loki shook his head. ''That's exactly it, Darcy. Retnick knew that science alone moved too slowly, and just wasn't enough. That's where the dark magick comes in. Let's face it, sometimes, magick trumps science. You know that. And whether he can actually wake Anna-Lily or not is the least of our problems, it's the fact that he's going to try. When he does, when that portal rips open, some very terrible things are going to happen. This entire realm with be in great danger.''

* * *

><p><strong>Asgard<strong>

Thor walked thoughtfully down one of the long palace hallways with heavy footsteps that echoed. Odin and Frigga had asked to see him, their tones grave. He couldn't help but feel a kind of prickling uneasiness along his spine, though he tried to shake it away. The god's heart had been a bit heavy lately, he hadn't had much opportunity to visit Midgard; his job as peacekeeper in the Realms kept him very busy, especially since they all seemed to be quite chaotic at this time. No sooner had he calmed the riots and wars in one then he was sent to yet another that was tearing itself apart. It left him feeling rather frustrated. And he missed Jane so very much.

He entered the throne room and saw his mother and father sitting there, somber expressions on their faces. They looked like statues.

Odin spoke first. ''I wanted to first commend you for all of your hard work in these trying times. You've done Asgard a great service. Now, however, you must return to Midgard. There is a new darkness spreading there. And it is strong.''

Thor raised his eyebrows for a moment in concern, opened his mouth to say something, but then instead simply bowed his head in a nod.

''There's something else, too,'' Frigga said, a very troubled look in her green eyes. ''Loki, Darcy, _and_ Jane—they all may be in danger.''

Having rarely heard his mother sound quite so serious, Thor felt a chill go through him, even as he said, ''I will see to it.'' Grim yet determined, the god of Thunder walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>The sun had now vanished completely and the sky had grown dark, a deepening, thick blackness.<p>

''The night begins to fall at last,'' said Mary, her eyes shining, joy in her voice as she stood by one of the windows in the smaller sitting room, a broom clutched in her wrinkled hand, as always. ''It's been so very long.''

Loki ignored the batty old housekeeper and caught up with Retnick just as he was heading towards the door at the end of the hall, the door to the room with the chalk circle on the floor.

''I hope you're prepared for what you're about to do,'' he told the leader, fixing him with a cold stare.

''Don't talk to me about being prepared, you stupid, stubborn thing,'' Retnick snarled in response, clearly irritated with being called out yet again. ''I don't know why, but you two appealed to what's left of my humanity. And I tried to give you a chance, but you had to come running back. To what? Try and stop me?'' He shook his head. ''I almost wish you could. Being right on the edge of the thing you've been striving towards for so long feels almost like a dream. I never thought it would be like this.''

Loki took this opportunity to try and reason with him.''Even if by some unfortunate stroke of luck you _did_ manage to bring her back, you know the consequences. You know that Jason and his ilk have been using you as a pawn in their game. Tonight the door is going to rip open completely, and then we are going to have an invasion on our hands.''

''It's not an invasion,'' Retnick said softly. ''It's a Restoration.''

''Is that what you truly believe?'' Loki asked with a raised eyebrow. ''You're smarter than that. See, in a sense, you _were_ doing the world a service. Your little cult offered supposedly willing sacrifices one at a time to these beings on the other side and then your prison held them. It was easy enough to delude yourself into believing that you were a benevolent facilitator of this alchemy. But once the door rips itself open far enough, there isn't going to be any slow choosing of Vessels. They won't have to wait anymore, they won't have to abide by your rules and play nice. They are going to overrun this realm, throwing it into darkness, spreading like a virus until they are the only thing left, walking round in their stolen bodies. What kind of a world is that to bring a child back into?''

Retnick said nothing.

''And another thing,'' continued Loki, ''perhaps you may have preserved her body very well, physically, yes, she may wake up again. Jason may have her spirit somewhere. But what about her mind? How are you going to explain to Anna-Lily what happened? What if she _remembers_? She'll wake up and look around and wonder why more than seventy years has passed. She's only a little girl, what is that going to do to her?''

''Children are resilient,'' the leader replied, though his voice wavered. He coughed a little and quickly straightened up, drawing himself to his full height. ''Now, if you'll excuse me.'' He waved his arm, sending out a jolt of energy that caught Loki off guard and knocked him to the ground, dizzy and disoriented. Retnick stepped around him carefully and made his way down the hall.

The circle in the room where the Restored were chosen had never been closed. It always allowed for a small residual trickle of energy to constantly flow through it like a stream. It only took a few words from Retnick and then the trickle became a churning river, one that began to rip at the edges of the floorboards, practically dissolving the area inside the chalk, swirling into a dark hesitated, just for a moment, but then the words were spoken and it was over and done and far too late to take back. Jason had been correct when he had told Darcy that Retnick didn't need all of the remaining pages to the book. Once, yes, back when he wasn't nearly as strong, he would have needed them, but now he had the Reckoner and the Palace of Souls to aid him in his quest to bring back the one thing that he had ever really loved, the thing that made him less of a monster. She wasn't dead, she was only frozen in wait, in a place beyond death. After all the years spent building to this one moment, now it had arrived, and Retnick couldn't deny the queasy feeling that rose up inside him, a dread that he'd never felt before, the sudden knowledge that he had gone much too far.

* * *

><p>Exhaustion made Darcy slip off into sleep against her will. Something made her begin to stir awake, the feeling of cold fingers against her arm. Even only being half-aware, she knew for certain that it wasn't Loki. Her eyes flew open and she instantly reeled in shock to see Anna-Lily sitting on the bed beside her, her small hand resting on her skin. Her eyes were wide, she looked rather frightened.<p>

''All of the doors are open,'' Anna-Lily whispered in her tiny, grave voice. ''They are coming.'' Darcy blinked and then she was gone.

* * *

><p>''The moonlight is gone, swallowed at last,'' Penelope announced to all the others in a satisfied voice. ''Now our time has come.'' She reached out her hand and touched the iron door to her cell. The lock instantly fell away as if it were a castle of sand. She walked down the long, narrow hallway, opening each door and freeing all the others. One by one, they stirred to sudden life and slipped eagerly out of their cells, following her out the door and along the path through the woods.<p>

Meanwhile, the mansion suddenly shook as if rattled by an earthquake. Light began to spill out from the room at the end of the hallway. Grimacing at the sharp pain in his head, Loki woke to the sound of Mary's cackling, delighted laughter. Darcy flew down the stairs, clutching at the bannister for support as she made her way to the foyer. Picture frames were shaken off of the walls, vases and other knick knacks fell to the floor and cracked. Struggling to his feet, Loki caught sight of Darcy hurrying towards him, eyes wide. He grabbed her arm. ''Quickly, we have to get out of the house.'' Together they ran out the door and into the back yard.

The air was remarkably still. Darcy's eyes were drawn upwards, to the sky, where the moon was now covered completely. ''Look!'' she whispered, clutching at Loki's hand. She had never seen a total lunar eclipse before. It truly was an amazing sight.

Then her heart plummeted as she looked across the grass, seeing something in the shadows. Hesitantly letting go of Loki's hand, Darcy crept closer. The first thing she noticed was that all of the flowers that had been parched and dying were now suddenly in full bloom. Amid those flowers lay Ethan Montauk, both of his eyes finally closed forever. Death made him look strangely relieved. ''Oh no,'' whispered Darcy. Then she turned and looked back at the house, all of the windows now violently alight as the portal continued to pull open wider and wider.

Loki's gaze, however, was drawn to the edge of the woods, where he saw them, waiting. They came into view single file, moving like shadows, Penelope leading them, her dark eyes shining. He reached out and pulled Darcy away. Ducking quickly out of sight behind the stone wall, they hid and watched as the Reckoner came striding calmly across the field, where he came to stand beside Penelope, both of them smiling with apparent delight as they watched that light spitting from the house. Now the leader was there too, they could see him rushing over to the macabre couple.

''What is this?'' Retnick demanded, seeming a little short of breath. Darcy noticed that he looked _worried_, perhaps even afraid. Clearly something hadn't happened the way that he had anticipated. The Reckoner smiled like an eel, his eyes glittering in the dark. ''I'm sorry, old friend. And we are all so very grateful to you for your assistance. But you have grown greedy, and now that I have such wonderful new companions I'm afraid that I have no need for you anymore.'' He began walking away. ''Wait!'' screamed the leader. ''What about the promise that you made me?''

The Reckoner shook his head, gave Retnick an almost pitying smile. ''Underneath it all, what you really wanted was power. The ability to be a god on earth for just one moment. And you've had that. You've had a very long moment. Don't worry about your sweet daughter—she'll be kept safe, as she has been all this time.''

Retnick's eyes burned with rage, he looked like he wanted to scream, but no sound came out, he just swallowed reflexively, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Jason turned and walked along the path into the woods.

Darcy's breath caught in her throat as Penelope reached out, wrapped her pale fingers around his neck and squeezed. She looked up at the eclipsed moon and smiled, showing her black teeth. ''Thank you,'' she said to Retnick in that awful, deep voice. ''Thank you for letting me walk the earth. Thank you for giving me my bride, my body, my beloved.'' Her fingers tightened their iron grip, lifting him clean into the air with unnatural strength. ''But you must understand.'' His eyes bulged and then he stopped struggling. ''You have forgotten that you are only a man. And as such,'' she dropped his lifeless body to the ground, ''You must remember to die.''

Biting back a scream, Darcy dug her fingernails into Loki's arm. The god simply stared, wide-eyed at what had just happened. Then there came the familiar and eerie sound of singing from behind them. She turned and saw a flickering of light through the trees, from deep within the woods. She got to her feet and followed the sound. Loki saw her move, went to follow her but cast a wary glance behind him at the glowing, shaking house.

Branches crunched beneath her feet as she was led by the sound and the light, through the forest and then to the place beyond, the place with the tree and the stone building that had served as a prison. Her eyes widened as she saw what lay even beyond that. It was enormous, a building of unbelievable height and width, something that no human being could possibly have built. It seemed almost alive, aglow from within.

Then with horror she saw Jane standing by the tree, near the entrance to the colossal structure. Her hands were bound and she still looked half-asleep, or deeply drugged. Revulsion slithered around her stomach as the Reckoner then appeared, seemingly out of thin air.

''Please,'' Darcy begged frantically. ''Please let her go.''

Jason shook his head. ''I'm afraid that there's only one way for that to happen.''

Her heart sank as she realized what this meant. Terrible sounds came through the trees and Darcy could hear the utter chaos as the creatures came rushing out of the portal, tearing their way out of the house and flooding into the night.

There was no way that they could use the reversal spell, they had no chance to fight, not from this side. The doors of the Palace were opening, beckoning. She could hear the voices calling to her, see the hands reaching out, so many hands, so many voices. She thought of Jane, laughing and smiling in happier times. And then she thought of tears and blood and broken glass on the floor. _You got the better deal. _Darcy heard the hopeless echo of the scientist's voice in her head. And then, right then, she knew what she had to do. She owed it to Jane. She trusted herself enough. And she trusted Loki. The world was going to hell around them, the Restored had broken free and were now walking the earth again, Retnick's lifeless body was crumpled on the ground. 'Not everything dies the same way,' she remembered those words.

Darcy was scarcely aware that she was moving or talking until she'd begun to run.''Take me!'' she screamed, rushing until she was near the doors. ''Take me instead! Just let her go!''

Jason's eyes lit with utter delight. ''Done,'' said the Reckoner, snapping his fingers. Jane's hands fell free and then she disappeared.

''Where did she go?''

''Back home safe. Don't worry, love, soon you won't even remember her name. But she will remember you. Fondly, I would assume. After all, you did save her life. This is what, the second time you've done that now? Or rather, I should say that you've postponed her demise. Strange. Strange what you consider saving someone. I would have given her a world without death. I would have given her eternity.''

Loki had finally managed to catch up with Darcy, a sinking feeling overtaking him as he saw what was happening. She turned to him very quietly, and held up her hand so that he could see the scar along her palm. Tears shone in her eyes. ''Find me,'' she whispered. Then she bolted into a sprint towards the beckoning Palace.

Icy fear crashed over Loki in waves.''No!'' he shouted, running after her. ''No, NO!''

Darcy managed to turn back in time to meet his eyes again and share one last look, just as Jason smiled and she was pulled through the doors.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey loves! Thank you for all of your reviews and feedback! This chapter begins the second half of the story. I should be posting up another chap in a couple days because I originally had this one and part of chapter 16 together, but I decided that it would be easier to split it up. So we'll catch up with Natasha, Jane, and all the others next time; this one is all Loki and Darcy, but with another familiar face thrown in as well. I have to apologise in advance for my bizarre imagination, it truly has a will of its own. But I promise if you stick with me you won't be disappointed!**

* * *

><p><em>For there to be a ghost, there must be a return to the body, but to a body that is more abstract than ever.<em>

**-Jacques Derrida**

The Palace of Souls was as tall as it was wide, with thousands upon thousands of rooms, stretching up into the sky. The interior of one particular floor, situated at the very top of the structure, resembled a hospital, and in a way, that was exactly what it was. There was a large circular desk near the doors like a nurse's station. Two Anunnaki were always posted there. The Anunnaki were the people who staffed the floor, if you could call them people. They were all enormously tall and thin, possessing unnatural strength in their wiry bodies. Almost totally androgynous, they all looked identical, had blonde hair and immobile features. Their eyes were a bright blue and had almost no pupil at all. They might as well have been walking mannequins.

The Anunnaki worked with Dr. Ereshkigal, the woman who was in charge of the entire unit. Only slightly more human-seeming, she had a stern calmness about her, and rarely, if ever, smiled. Everyone had to see her periodically for a checkup.

There were probably about seventeen people in total on the floor, some old, some younger, a mixture of both men and women. Each person had a bed in a small room where they slept, but they never needed to eat anything. There was a window counter at the wall behind the front desk and after they woke they would line up there to be handed a cup filled with a strange liquid. It was dark and tasted like old fermenting fruit and something else that was hard to define; a bitter, empty tase, like ashes. They weren't allowed to leave the line until they'd swallowed every drop. The woman on the other side of the window had long red hair and pale, almost bloodless skin. Her eyes were a deep indigo colour and, unlike the Anunnaki, the pupils were so very large that they seemed completely black at first glance. Her name was Lethe.

''Very good,'' Lethe would always say, with a nod and a smile. Then she'd take the cup back and throw it away.

Dr. Ereshkigal and the Anunnaki didn't like anyone 'acting up.' If you 'acted up' then you were sent to Room 3. Nobody knew exactly what happened in Room Three, but whoever who went in there came out looking like they were sleepwalking, and they stayed that way for a long time. And they didn't act up again.

Nobody really seemed to question their existence much, except for a young woman with long dark hair. She'd opened her eyes and found herself there, wearing the same shapeless gray garments that they dressed everyone in. There were no memories inside her mind from before that initial Waking, not one, only a kind of numb buzz, like static. An empty space, one that seemed to have been full before, and this emptiness grated painfully. She had no name, at least not one that she knew. She had no way to measure time, no indication as to how long she'd been there, or how she'd arrived. There were no clocks and no calenders—there didn't need to be, for time did not exist where they were, they were told. Many of the people there wore plastic bracelets with their names; she had one too but hers was blank. She'd wandered up to the main desk once and asked why, and she'd been told by one of the humourless Anunnaki not to ask questions. They called her 'Anon 1' and said that was as good a name as she was going to get.

Anon 1 had a long scar across the palm of her hand. It comforted and fascinated her, she felt as if it were some kind of clue that she merely didn't know how to interpret yet. There was also a ring on her finger, a gold ring with two snakes wrapping around each other. Though she didn't know it, when she'd first arrived, Dr. Ereshkigal and the Anunnaki had tried more than once to remove it, but each attempt proved disastrous. The ring would almost come alive and defend itself, burning the fingers of anyone who tried to pry it off, or sending out jolts of electricity. Eventually, they stopped trying.

Anon 1 was restless, not content to sit still like the others. It was very boring much of the time, if they weren't sleeping then they had nowhere else to go but the large common room. There were windows that looked out, but whatever lay outside of them never changed. It was always dark, and the tree branches always creaked out the same tune. Eventually everyone forget that the windows were even there, because there was so little to see. Anon 1 had a friend, though, a girl with choppy black hair, scarred arms, and a ruined smile. She seemed slightly more awake than the rest. Her bracelet read 'Cloud.'

Cloud seemed happy enough. She sat by the window nearly all the time surrounded by a pile of books, always zealously reading.

Climbing onto one of the large green chairs, Anon 1 draped her legs over the arm rest. ''Where did you get those?'' she asked, gesturing to the books.

Cloud shrugged her thin shoulders. ''They were just _here_,'' she replied.

''Have you ever been outside the doors?'' Anon 1 wondered, casting a surreptitious glance down the hall.

The thin girl shook her head swiftly in reply. ''Of course not. Nobody has.''

''Why not?''

''Well, it isn't safe for us.'' A page in her book turned with a flutter.

''What do you mean?''

She looked like she was getting rather tired of the interrogation, but she patiently explained, ''We're special because we have bodies.''

''What are you talking about?''

Cloud sighed and reached over to pinch Anon 1's arm sharply with two fingers.

''Oww!''

''You see,'' she said pointedly, ''_bodies_. On all the other floors, they don't have them.''

''Oh. So what are they—just...floating around?'' Anon 1 twisted around in her chair and eyed the girl curiously.

''Yeah, something like that.'' Cloud went back to her book.

''Do you remember anything from before this place?''

She snorted. ''Of course not. Nobody does. _There is no before._''

''So...but then how did we _get_ here?'' pressed the dark-haired woman.

Cloud shrugged. ''I guess we've just...always been here.''

''Like the books.''

''Mmmm-hmm.''

It was very frustrating, the not remembering, the not knowing if there was anything _to_ remember. At least nearly all of the others had a name if nothing else. It seemed to Anon 1 that they paid more attention to her than all of the other patients. Dr. Ereshkigal saw her more regularly, and she also was periodically escorted to the other side of the unit—a place where few of them were allowed to go—to see a man. This man was supposedly important, all of the Anunnaki and even Dr. Ereshkigal deferred to him with great respect, or perhaps fear. He was tall and thin and lanky, with blond hair and a large nose. His eyes were the same cold bright blue of the Anunnaki, but unlike them his face displayed emotion, lots of it, in fact. Anon 1 didn't like him, he bothered her. But he seemed to like her very much, a little _too_ much; he would stare at her in a very unsettling way then tell her how beautiful she was and how happy he was to see her. Sometimes he even tried to touch her, running his fingers along her face, and she would instinctively flinch and back away and he always seemed very upset when she did, and would have the Anunnaki come and take her back.

Now Anon 1 heard footsteps behind her and she turned to see Dr. Ereshkigal standing there holding a tablet in her hand. This meant that it was time for her session. Grudgingly, she got up from the chair and followed the woman out of the common room and into a small office a few feet down the hall, near the front desk station. Inside the office, two chairs faced each other. There were very few other furnishings, it was rather cold and sparse on the inside, with grey, metallic walls.

''Did you sleep well?'' the doctor asked.

''Yes.''

''Good.'' She wrote something down on her tablet with a stylus. ''Any dreams?'' Her eyes glanced over the rim of her glasses.

''No.''

''Very good,'' she murmured, the pale traces of a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. They didn't like it when you dreamed, Anon 1 had learned. If you started dreaming, then Lethe would have to give you an extra cup in the morning. Luckily for Anon 1, these sessions were over very quickly. Dr. Ereshkigal would ask her a few questions, usually the same ones, and then she'd be sent on her way, which was exactly the way it happened this time. Seeming satisfied with her responses, the doctor pressed a button on the wall panel and then one of the Anunnaki appeared and escorted her back to the common room.

Later, overcome with boredom, Anon 1 was dozing on a chair when there came a sudden commotion from near the front doors, rousing her into alertness. Dr. Ereshkigal and Lethe got up from their stations and hurried over. Cloud and Anon 1 crept closer and peered around the corner to see what was going on. Nobody else seemed to care, they barely stirred from their slothlike positions. The Anunnaki were bringing a man in, dragging him, really, and he was fighting them. He seemed to be doing a decent job of it too-it took at least four of them just to hold him, and they were _very_ strong, Anon 1 knew. They were all wearing the weird, unsettling respirator masks that they donned whenever they went out the doors, and they'd put one on him as well. Once the doors were safely locked, they pulled the mask off of his face. Above their heads, the lights flickered as if there were some strange sort of electrical interference. The air felt charged, it made Anon 1's skin prickle. She looked at the man again, seeing his face for the first time. His long dark hair hung into his eyes, wild green, green eyes. Something in her chest felt strangled when she looked at him, her heart began to beat so fast that for a moment she was sure that she was about to die. ''Take him to Room 3,'' Dr. Ereshkigal said in her cold, placid voice.

* * *

><p>Later, after the lights had been turned out and they'd been sent to their rooms, Anon 1 slipped quietly down the hall towards the common room. She knew that she wasn't supposed to be out of bed, but she couldn't help it. She never slept as well as the others, it was as if the blank spaces in her head kept her awake. It was awful just lying there on the bed in her tiny, dark room with nothing but the <em>emptiness<em>. Even if one of the Anunnaki caught her the worst they would do would be to take her to Lethe, who would smile that calm smile and present her with a cup of dark blue liquid. She didn't know what that particular potion was, only that it made you fall into a frighteningly deep, utterly dreamless sleep. Anon 1 wasn't fond of this, so her movements were very quiet as she crept around the common room, looking for Cloud's stack of books, hoping that maybe reading would tire her eyes until she fell asleep again. She heard movement, and crouched down, peering around the wall. Dr. Ereshkigal walked up to the front desk, where a tall man was waiting. Anon 1 knew him, it was the man that they made her visit. He had a stormy expression on his face. ''Is everyone sleeping?'' the doctor asked the Anunnaki that was stationed at the desk, who gave a nod. ''Good.''

''I know you have a new patient,'' the tall man said angrily. ''That was a mistake. He's not supposed to be here.''

''Well, regardless,'' came the doctor's cool reply, ''he's here now. And you know I have an obligation, one that you yourself-''

''I don't want him here!'' he interrupted, sounding, Anon 1 thought, like a petulant child. ''I can't take that chance!''

''There isn't any other place for him now, and you know that,'' said Dr. Ereshkigal.

''Not yet,'' muttered the tall man.

The doctor's voice sounded a little clipped when she said, ''This is my floor. I have a duty to my patients. I took vows that they wouldn't be harmed. _Even_ by you.'' Then her tone calmed. ''Don't worry. We can work miracles here. He will never remember a thing.''

''What about _her_?'' he asked in a soft tone that made Anon 1 shiver for some reason, and then they both moved out of sight and their voices faded away.

She began to feel very strange after that, overtaken by a kind of restlessness, so much stronger than before. There was an electricity in the air around her still, her skin was cloaked in it. She kept thinking about the closed door to Room 3 and what might be happening on the other side with a sinking dread. After creeping back to bed after unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation between the doctor and the tall man, she fell into sleep, and, for the first time, her mind came alive with scraps of a dream. She dreamed about the mysterious, wild-eyed man and then woke with a hollow feeling in her chest.

It wasn't as though there were any sort of natural light to let the patients know when to wake, but the lights above their heads would blink on and off and suddenly they'd find that they sleeping anymore. The lights pulled Anon 1 out of that dream and she groggily lined up with the others to see Lethe. When the red-haired woman handed her the cup with an encouraging smile, she hesitated for a moment, staring down at the dark liquid. Then, with a strange kind of regret that Anon 1 hadn't felt before, she swallowed it down.

* * *

><p>Loki hadn't planned this. Once he watched Darcy vanish into that glowing light, something inside of him broke like a dry twig. Feeling traces of that dreaded madness escalating up his spine, he reacted absolutely without thinking, something that he never did. The doors were slowly beginning to close. He was now only a few feet away. As fast as he could, Loki ran as if possessed, sliding inside before they shut completely, leaving Midgard tumbling into chaos behind him. Once he was through the doors, swallowed by that light, the god immediately began to feel strange. It was trying to move in quicksand. Everything was bright and distorted and off balance. And it was getting very hard to breathe, as if the atmosphere were growing terribly thin. He felt dizzy, his lungs burned, but he kept moving, groping blindly at nothing.<p>

He had swore that he would hold on. To what, he didn't know. And he had, for awhile, he knew that he had put up a fight, had resisted. Hands had almost immediately seized him amid that initial bright, foggy light. They were strong, these people. He'd wondered if they actually _were_ people, they seemed more like humanoid machines than anything else. They were wearing masks over their faces when they came for him. They shoved something down over his face and then mercifully Loki could breathe again. He sucked in huge gulps of oxygen, then as soon as he could regain some strength he tried to break away from them. They simply dragged him along in their iron grips until they'd reached a huge looming set of doors, which looked to be made of some kind of shiny, reinforced metal alloy. Once they got him inside, Loki was practically delirious, still thrashing like a madman, swinging uselessly at his apparent captors, who quickly rushed him into another room. All he remembered seeing were lights and cold, cold steel. At least three of them held him down, then one clamped something down over his head, the others restrained his arms and legs in cuffs. Then the woman with the glasses had come in with a needle and syringe full of dark liquid. She sighed deeply when she saw him, shaking her head a little as if in disbelief. ''Well, well. I really hope you're not going to be a problem,'' she said, then jabbed the needle into his arm. Though he fought it with everything inside of him, every ounce of rage and strength, blank darkness began to swim up, dissolving his mind like acid. Everything that he had tried so desperately to hold on to was slipping away, his memories, his very identity. Then at last it reached the one thing that was most precious. Loki thrashed in pain, tried to hold an image of Darcy in his mind, repeating her name over and over. But the darkness was too strong and even she faded away.

* * *

><p>''I feel like...like I'm looking for someone. Like...like I miss him.'' Anon 1 confessed to Dr. Ereshkigal. She looked down at her hands. Even after her visit to Lethe, that nagging feeling hadn't abated, only dulled at the edges slightly.<p>

''Hmmm,'' said the doctor. ''These glitches happen. Misfiring neurons, that's all it is. The mind plays tricks on us sometimes.'' She smiled calmly. ''We can fix that.''

''I know...I know. But...I can't help the feeling...''

''What do we say, when we feel that way?'' Dr. Ereshkigal prompted, cutting her off.

''_There is no before. There is no after. We are here. We are well in the Palace of Souls. There is no time. There is no death. We are here and well in the Palace of Souls_.'' Anon 1 repeated dutifully.

''So you see, what you are feeling or thinking—it isn't real. Just bad programming.'' She tapped at her head with her pen as if in illustration of her point. ''How can you miss someone you've never met?'' the doctor gently added, a half smile around her mouth.

''Oh, I can,'' Anon 1 whispered very softly, her voice choked with tears as she thought of the man with the green eyes. ''I can, I can.''

''You seem upset,'' Dr. Ereshkigal remarked, quickly scribbling something down on her tablet. ''Do you need to go see Lethe again? Perhaps an increase in your dose will-''

''No, I'm fine, I promise. I am here and well in the Palace of Souls,'' she added, trying to sound as convincing as possible. She realised that perhaps it would be better not to mention any of this again.

The doctor looked like she didn't quite believe her, but she nodded.

After one of the Anunnaki escorted her back to the common room, Anon 1's heart skipped a beat as she saw him, sprawled in one of the chairs. He looked tired and blank, the way everyone did when they came out of Room 3, yet there was still some quiet awareness in his eyes that they hadn't been able to completely chase away. As everyone settled into their typical routine—Cloud with her books, some of the others sitting and staring—she took the opportunity to get a better look at him. Strategically positioning herself on one of the large chairs, Anon 1 could peek over without being too conspicuous, she hoped. He was now dressed in the same shapeless gray shirt and pants that everyone wore, but she could see the firm, lean outline of his body underneath. He was tall, with long, long legs that were splayed out in front of him. He had a beautifully interesting face with pale skin, sharp, angular cheekbones and thin lips, framed by long, messy black hair. And then there were those eyes. As she quietly studied him she felt a nagging, restless electricity swarm all over her; her heart thudded dizzily in her chest, just as it had when she watched the Anunnaki dragging him in.

He turned, ever so slightly, and looked right at Anon 1 their eyes connecting for a moment. It felt like a pulse of energy shrieking through her blood. There was something that she was supposed to remember, she now knew, her body sang with it.

* * *

><p>There wasn't really much of anything to do except stare at the wall, he realised with irritation. He'd opened his eyes and found himself sprawled on a chair in a large room with many other people. The chilly woman doctor and the enormous blond creatures called him 'Anon 2'. He'd quickly learned that the best thing to do was to be silent and observant, they seemed to not be fond of him already, though to his knowledge he hadn't done anything to them. His head ached terribly, but it was empty, infuriatingly so. There were no memories, not a one. Just a hollow, grating chasm inside of his skull. And this damned <em>place<em>, where there was nothing to do but stare at the wall, out the windows at the useless, unchanging scenery, or at the other people. At least one of them was a nice distraction.

'Anon 2' was becoming rather infatuated with that dark-haired woman, the one who kept looking at him. For some reason, she made him feel more alive, not like he was sleeping all the time. He now watched her talking to the scrawny girl with the scars and books. Then she got up and moved around the room. She stretched, raising her arms up over her head. His eyes followed her movements, taking note of the way the gray fabric pulled and tugged, emphasising the hidden soft, lush curves of her body underneath. Pure, unexpected lust slammed him right in the solar plexus. She bent down in a weird motion, sinking almost instinctively into a pose. As she did so, her long dark hair swished around her like a curtain, but she peeked through and caught his eye, seeing him watching her.

Just then one of the Anunnaki hurried over, shaking its head, tapping the woman on the arm. ''No.''

''But what was I doing?'' she protested, climbing to her feet. ''I was just stretching!''

''It's in your chart,'' the Anunnaki explained. ''That kind of stretching isn't beneficial. Unlearn,'' it instructed in a firm voice. ''Unlearn.'' Just then the red-haired creature, Lethe, came hurrying over with one of her small cups. She handed it to the woman, who hesitantly held it to her lips. Just for a second, her gaze fluttered back over to him. Then she took a swallow. ''Very good,'' Lethe said, nodding and taking the cup back. ''Now go and sit down and have a rest. You'll feel better soon.''

From his chair in the corner, Anon 2 watched unhappily as a glassy, foggy sheen cast over the woman's pretty eyes. She walked towards a chair, then paused halfway across the floor, turning back and looking right at him. With slightly shuffling footsteps she moved closer with a strange sense of urgency, as if she needed to say something that was quickly slipping away. She was now standing right in front of him, so very near that he could feel the heat from her skin.

''I had a dream about you,'' the dark-haired woman said. Her hand fluttered up and rested against his face for the briefest moment and then she turned and shuffled back over to the chair, where she promptly collapsed into a staring heap. Suddenly he felt like he was bleeding inside, though he couldn't say why.

* * *

><p>Anon 2 wasn't good at sleeping, either. But he did have a curious talent, he'd discovered, one that he kept to himself: he could detach from his body. As he lay in bed, with just a small bit of effort he could project his consciousness outward. Granted, there wasn't really anywhere to go: their world ended at those metal doors. It was useful however, he felt, to gain as much knowledge about their keepers as he could and so he projected himself down the corridor and to the front desk, where a tall, agitated-seeming man hovered almost menacingly. ''Is she ready for me yet?'' he asked the doctor. He seemed to be growing more restless and impatient by the minute. Dr. Ereshkigal shook her head. ''The deprogramming still needs maintenance. Her mind is extremely resistant, and strong.''<p>

''Work _harder_,'' he said, his voice sharp. ''I want her completely new. And I want that damned ring off of her finger!''

''It won't come off,'' Dr. Ereshkigal protested. ''We've tried everything. Three of my Anunnaki have been injured in the process.''

''You had better get rid of that thing, or I swear I'll slice her finger off myself.''

There was a sharp intake of breath from the doctor. ''You wouldn't,'' she said. Her voice shook just a bit.

''Don't tell me what I'm capable of. I've given you all of this, I can take it away in an instant. Make her ready for me soon. Make her _perfect_.''

''Yes, Master,'' Dr. Ereshkigal relented softly. Anon 2's grasp on the projection was starting to waver, so he quickly pulled his consciousness back. He lay awake in the dark, pondering what he had seen and heard.

* * *

><p>After everyone had been wakened and seen Lethe, two of the Anunnaki strode into the common room. One of them was carrying an elegant black dress. Silently, they took Anon 1 by the arm and led her into one of the unoccupied sleeping quarters where they helped her out of the gray uniform and into the garment, a low cut mixture of lace and silk. She groaned inwardly, knowing that she was going to be taken to see that awful man again. He always liked her to look nice, to wear a dress and have her hair neat. Anon 1 wanted to protest that she could dress herself-she hated the feeling of their hands against her skin, but she bit her tongue, knowing that it wouldn't do any good. Once the black gown was on, they brushed her hair with cold, robotic indifference in their motions. Then they seemed satisfied with the way she looked because they nodded at each other and led her back into the hall and up to the front desk.<p>

Anon 2 watched the dark-haired woman pass by, flanked by two of the blond humanoids; his jaw dropped a little in surprise when he saw how beautiful she looked.

Once she and the Anunnaki were out of sight, he nudged Cloud with his foot. She turned around, setting down her book with no small amount of annoyance. ''What?''

''Where are they taking her?'' he asked in a whisper. ''I don't know,'' the scarred girl replied, but she stiffened a little and he knew that she was lying, but he didn't push it.

* * *

><p>Anon 1 breathed a sigh of relief when she was returned to the common room again, out of the black dress and back in her shapeless gray uniform. Her meeting with the tall man had been blessedly brief, and he had at least restrained himself from putting his hands on her this time. The way he looked at her was still sickening, though. It was a hungry look, he wanted something from her and she dreaded finding out what that was. She headed over to one of the more comfortable chairs near Cloud and the beautiful green-eyed man.<p>

There was something happening to Anon 1, and it had been happening ever since he arrived. She had begun to feel much more...alive and aware of her body. It was awkward at first. Her skin felt flushed and almost too sensitized. She kept stealing glances over at him, just to feel the weird, tingling jolt that would rush through her when she did. She wanted to touch him again, the way she had right after the Anunnaki had scolded her for stretching. Even Lethe's potion hadn't been able to completely chase away the feeling of his cool skin beneath her fingers for that moment. She knew instinctively that the Anunnaki—and especially Dr. Ereshkigal—wouldn't approve of her feeling this way, if she told them, they would frown and send her to Lethe again, so she kept it very secret.

''Hello,'' she whispered as she passed by him. She saw him raise his eyebrows. ''Hello,'' he replied with a nod. His voice was deep and dark, it sent tremors through her. He smiled, just a little. ''Do you have a name?'' he asked. She shook her head. ''They call me Anon 1.'' The smile widened, and he said, ''They call me Anon 2.''

She laughed. ''Isn't that funny?'' she said. ''Neither one of us has got a name. We're the only ones, I think.'' She leaned back in the chair. Over by the window, Cloud rolled her eyes at both of them and then returned to her book.

''I wonder why that is.''

Anon 1 shook her head. ''We'll never know. I asked once.''

''And?''

''They don't like it when you ask questions.''

''I see.''

The simple conversation was like an intoxicating dance.''Maybe we knew each other before here,'' she said softly, looking into his eyes.

''You better watch it with that,'' Cloud spoke up, overhearing. ''You know the rules: _''There is no before. There is no after. We are here. We are well in the Palace of Souls. There is no time. There is no death. We are here and well in the Palace of Souls.''_

''Yeah, yeah, I know the damn rules,'' Anon 1 grumbled sourly. The green-eyed man just smiled at her again, and the smile sent heat through her blood. It was a beautiful look, half-wicked, half-kind, as if he knew a secret and didn't even realize.

''Just watch it,'' repeated Cloud. ''You don't want to get taken to Room 3 again.''

''Again?'' Anon 1 asked curiously.

Cloud groaned. ''I'm sorry I said anything. Just...just shut up, ok? I'm trying to read. If you want to talk, do it away from me.''

So they did. But talking soon led to other discoveries.

''We have the same scar,'' Anon 1 realized wonderingly, holding her hand up next to his, their fingers brushing. A shiver ghosted through her, a trace of a sudden knowing that flashed quickly by before disappearing again. Whatever it was, she needed to find it. And somehow, Anon 1 knew that she would find it with him. Silently, she took hold of his hand and stood, motioning for him to follow her. They slid into one of the unoccupied rooms down the hall from the common room. They stood there inside, in the dim quiet light, facing each other, the sound of their breathing echoing.

''Kiss me,'' she said, tugging at the front of his shirt. ''You know you want to.'' He did want to. He wanted to very badly. He threaded his fingers through her hair and brought his mouth down against hers, gently at first, but then once he got a taste of those lips something snapped inside of him and he went wild, pushing her up against the wall, plundering her mouth with a kiss. The little moaning sound she made spurred him on even more and he slid his hands up under her shapeless gray shirt, finally closing over those soft, wonderful breasts. She pulled away from the kiss for a moment, her face flushed and eyes dazed. ''Yes,'' she whispered. ''This is...this is good.''

He nodded in vigorous agreement. ''This is very good.''

She smiled and leaned up to kiss him again, then brought her hand down to his waist, about to slide beneath his gray pants and then they were interrupted by the sound of a loud crash and yelling outside in the common room. Usually that meant someone was acting up, and soon the Anunnaki would come running, along with Lethe and Dr. Ereshkigal. They couldn't risk being discovered, so they broke apart almost painfully, filled with a terrible regret, and quietly slipped out of the room, one at a time, hoping not to be seen.

Luckily, the doctor and the Anunnaki were busy wrangling one of the patients, a larger, older man, and dragging him down the hall. ''This isn't right!'' He kept screaming. ''This isn't right!'' His face was red as a beet, tears in his eyes while he screamed at all of them. ''This is a prison! They're taking our souls! They're _taking our souls!_''

His voice continued to echo, and then the door to Room 3 opened and there was no more sound. Anon 1 let out a breath, quietly slinking down into a chair. ''Where have you been?'' asked Cloud, frowning a little as she took in her slightly disheveled appearance. The scarred girl's gaze shot over to the green-eyed man, now sitting on the opposite side of the room, looking to be in a similar state.

''Nowhere,'' Anon 1 lied, her heart still thudding in her chest, a terrible, unsatisfied ache between her legs.

''I'm sure,'' muttered Cloud. She sighed. ''Just be _careful_, ok?''

Anon 1 began to dream even more after that, and the dreams were highly sexual. But they were also heavily detailed, almost too much so to simply be something that her mind had created. As if they had really happened. And in all of them, she was with Anon 2, the other patient without a name. They were somewhere outside of the floor, though she'd been told that was impossible. They were in many different places, actually, but the scenery didn't matter so much as the feelings-the physical and emotional sensations that hit her like a tornado, so powerful that she woke in the darkness with a start. Something prompted her out of bed, a need that she didn't exactly understand.

* * *

><p>All of the lights were out when Anon 2 heard the door open. He silently prayed that it wasn't one of the Anunnaki or that beastly doctor coming to give him another potion. Instead, he saw a figure quickly dart into the room and over to the bed. Before he even realized what was happening, the covers lifted and the dark-haired woman slid underneath, practically crawling on top of him. He was now very acutely aware of how soft she was, how good it felt to have her warm body pressed against his. He almost groaned aloud. ''What are you doing?'' he hissed. ''Sssh,'' she said, fumbling to remove her shirt. Now he did groan, very softly. His hands went around her waist. ''If they catch us...'' he mumbled, then realized that he didn't care. ''They won't,'' she told him, bringing her lips down against his. ''And if they do it doesn't matter,'' she added, breaking away enough to slide off her drawstring pants. ''Because I need you,'' she added as she situated herself. He leaned into her, brushing his lips against her collar bone, drinking in her soft, intoxicating scent. In what seemed like only a second he was inside of her, and Anon 1 gasped because of the weird familiarity of the feeling; it was as though they'd been this way a thousand times before. <em>But that's impossible. There is no before.<em> ''_Oh,_'' she breathed, crushed by sensation. He snapped his hips up, thrusting deeply, trying to coax her body into motion. She didn't need much coaxing, their movements quickly became fevered and instinctive. It was over almost too soon, a burning climax hit them both at the same time and he clamped his hand down over her mouth to keep her from crying out. Her legs were shaking, she couldn't move for a minute after. Anon 1 sucked in a deep breath, realized that her face was wet with tears. He gently brushed them away from her eyes. She climbed off of him but didn't leave, staying curled against his chest.

''We used to have names,'' she whispered softly into the darkness.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys! Sorry that I made you wait a little longer for an update, real life is crazy sometimes. Here is the next chapter for you, please let me know what you think! Also, for everyone who has been worried/sad about Jane in this story-don't fret! She's going to be fine and all her behaviour is going to make sense eventually. And Thor will be back next chapter. :) **

* * *

><p><em>Is it like this<em>

_In death's other kingdom_

_Waking alone_

_At the hour when we are_

_Trembling with tenderness_

_Lips that would kiss_

_Form prayers to broken stone_

** -T.S. Eliot**

Anon 1 now felt as though she were slowly waking up after a deep sleep that had lasted years. She was strangely not at all shocked by her own bold actions earlier, when she had climbed into bed with Anon 2; rather, it had further ignited something beneath her skin, sending a flare of awareness climbing up her spine. She had reluctantly left him shortly before the lights began to blink on and off, and she still ached for the feeling of his cool, firm body against hers. Now they were all back in the common room, drifting into their eternal routine like unquestioning machine gears. Anon 1 was, once again, too restless to sit so she simply stood by the forgotten window. Back and forth out there, the shadow of a lone tree moved against the unchanging darkness. She wondered if it was really there, or simply some kind of mirage projected onto a screen. Anon 2 walked by, then. Her eyes met his, and her skin flushed. As he brushed past her, he whispered ''I want you again.'' His low, rough voice and cool breath sent a shiver ghosting over her. She nodded.

Inching over to the chair where her friend was sitting she whispered, ''Cloud, I need you to do something for me, ok?''

''What is it?'' asked the thin girl, with a tentative glance over the top of her book.

Anon 1 pointed towards one of the unoccupied rooms down the corridor. ''Just watch that door. That's it. And if any of the Anunnaki come around, keep them distracted. Keep them _away from the door_, you understand?''

She nodded, though there was a definite wariness in her gray eyes. ''Yeah, I understand. But like I said before, you'd better be careful. I mean, they watch you pretty closely. And I really don't think they want you near him, for some reason.''

''I know, I know. I'm going to be careful, I swear. Just watch the door, kay?''

Cloud gave a sigh. ''Alright,'' she agreed.

Luckily, for the moment everything was calm on the unit; Dr. Ereshkigal and the Anunnaki were otherwise occupied and all of the other patients were draped on chairs in their typical silent, vegetative positions. Nobody except Cloud noticed as Anon 1 slipped inside the room. Anon 2 was already there, waiting. He smiled at her once she entered and softly shut the door. Butterflies took flight throughout her blood in anticipation of what might transpire.

''Take this awful thing off,'' he said, pulling at the gray fabric that cloaked her body. ''I want to get a proper look at you.'' He hadn't been able to see much of her when she'd visited him in bed, it had been so dark then, and he was dying for a glimpse.

Anon 1 hesitated just a little, then slowly pulled the shirt up and over her head, watching his eyes darken as her bare skin was revealed to him. Then, taking a deep breath she untied the drawstring at the front of her baggy gray pants and let them slide to the ground.

''You're better than I imagined,'' he said, his voice a thick whisper as he studied her. He nodded towards the bed. ''Lay down.''

Tentative excitement and heat continued to collect in her as she did so, situating herself on the uncomfortable sheets. Anon 2 climbed onto the bed next to her, just staring down for a moment, drinking her in with his burning green eyes as if he was trying to memorize the way that she looked.

''What are you going to do?'' she asked.

''I'm going to keep looking at you for a minute,'' he answered, sliding his hand down her torso and her leg, until his pale long fingers rested on her knee. ''And then I'm going to kiss you.''

Anon 1 sat up and leaned forward a little at this, inclining her face towards him.

He shook his head, a grin playing around the corners of his mouth. ''I'm not going to kiss you there.'' He gently eased her legs apart. ''I'm going to kiss you _here_,'' he added, touching her very, very lightly. A sigh hissed from her mouth as he lowered his mouth against her sex, beginning a delightful torture. She bit her lip to keep quiet, though it was difficult. Sensation kept building and building inside of Anon 1, and as it escalated, pushing her closer to climax, there was a name hovering at the edges of her lips, hidden and illusive. In another place she would have known it, cried it out, but that knowledge had been taken away. Stolen. It made her furious, that someone would want to take such a wonderful thing. She started to come, clutching at the sheets, trying to stifle her cries. After it began to slowly recede there were tears on her face; she tried to hide them but it did little good as they just kept falling, provoked by the terrible frustration that she was feeling. The knowledge that many of those empty spaces in her head had once contained memories of something beautiful that she might never get back.

''What is it?'' Anon 2 asked, climbing up beside her on the bed, pulling her gently into his arms.

''I don't think we're supposed to be here,'' she answered tearfully. ''I just know somehow that this place is a lie. I don't think they're helping us.'' Anon 1 sucked in a breath. ''You and I were together somewhere else, and we had names there. Then they brought us here and took those memories away for some reason. Every morning, they give us something to drink, and that keeps us forgetting. But I don't want to forget anymore.'' The sorrow of it all threatened to rip her apart.

He held her tightly against him, running his fingers through her hair. ''I don't want to forget either,'' he told her. ''I...I feel the same as you do. I know you. Somehow, I've known you for a long, long time. No matter what they tell us, there is a before. And there will be an after.''

Anon 1 breathed softly for a minute, resting her head on his chest. Then she said, ''They're going to take me to see that man again. He's important.'' She gave a little shudder at this and then curled her body closer.

''What happens, when you go to see him?'' Anon 2 asked in a dark voice. His fingers tightened around her.

''He talks to me...he asks me how I am and...sometimes he says weird things like I belong with him, and he's waiting for me to get better so that we can be together.'' Anon 1 looked up at Anon 2 with watery eyes. ''But I _know_ that's not true. I can feel it inside. I think, no matter what, even if I were very sick...I would know instinctively if I belonged with someone or not. And I don't belong with him.''

_No, _Anon 2 thought. _With me. You belong with _me. He knew it in every cell of his being. In wordless response to this, he turned over and pulled her down on top of him again, sliding into her. They slipped into a rhythm. She was so warm—the intoxicating heat of her triggered a strange reaction. Anon 1 felt it abruptly: a sudden throb of icy cold, a thrilling chill deep inside of her, striking nerve endings that she didn't know she had. Her eyes flew open and she looked down in amazement to see that something very, very curious had happened. Anon 2's skin had changed colour and texture entirely, was now dark blue and near-freezing to the touch, covered in raised intricate patterns. Red eyes now stared back at her in place of his former green ones. He stopped moving with her, pausing in frozen horror as he stared down at himself, and then back at her as if he expected her to shriek, climb off of him and run away. Fear pounded through his blood as he regarded his newly monstrous visage. ''_I've lost her_,'' came his one coherent thought. ''_I just found her_.'' Regret sliced at him, dagger-like.

Yet curiously, she didn't. She simply stared wide-eyed for a moment and then put her hands on his chest. ''It's ok,'' she whispered reassuringly. It was better than ok, truth be told. ''Don't...don't stop. That feels incredible.'' Resuming motion, she quickened the pace of her body on his, riding him even harder. Anon 2 looked up at her face, bathed in ecstasy, her eyes half closed as she concentrated on the new sensations overtaking her. Though he was still hesitant, still in shock over the changes that had occurred, soon all that fell away and all he could feel was her, so warm, so very _warm_.

After he'd spent himself inside of her and she'd slipped off of him did he find his body slowly returning to its normal appearance. Anon 1 smiled down at him, still slightly dazed. ''Wow,'' she said. ''That's a pretty neat trick.''

* * *

><p>Anon 1 had come to dread that hateful routine of filing into a line to be drugged by their keepers. This process had made her uncomfortable before, but now that she found herself starting to wake up it was worse. Though the potion did not make most of her thoughts turn to vapor and then disappear as it once had, it still made her numb and groggy as if she were dreaming underwater. It was now her turn, she realized with a sinking heart as she moved up to the window, seeing Lethe's perpetually calm face, her hand outstretched, holding the cup. Anon 1 accepted it with trembling fingers and just then, there was a abrupt cacaphony from inside the little room, the sound of something loudly falling and clattering to the ground. Lethe was momentarily distracted, she turned her head away to see what was going on behind her. In that split second, Anon 1 saw her opportunity. Nobody was looking, and there was a small cleaning bucket sitting on the ground just a few inches away, filled with murky water. Before she could even become truly aware of what she was doing, her hand had shot out and deftly dumped the contents of her cup into the bucket. Lethe turned back, and she handed her the empty cup.<p>

Anon 2, who had quietly observed this from his place farther back towards the end of the line, looked at her with a kind of pride, suppressing the urge to laugh aloud. When it was his turn, he found that with a quick sleight of hand he'd managed to easily fool the strange woman behind the counter into thinking that he'd drank the potion as well. He and Anon 1 needed to figure out a better system if they were going to keep this up without anyone catching on, he realized. As long as they acted like good vegetables in front of the Anunnaki and the doctor, they might be able to regain enough cognisance to understand where they actually were, and perhaps even _who _they were.

He hadn't quite anticipated, though, the depth of _what_ he would have to remember. Everything moved in its weird cycle of imaginary time in the Palace, darkness and waking and sleep and lights blinking on and off. It could make you dizzy. It was the remembering that made Anon 2 wonder if he was going mad. That first brush with clarity was staggering and uncomfortable.

Dark things lurked in his dreams. Pain, anger, sadness, drenching the walls of his mind in dark red and black like ashes. A cold world, grey-blue ice for miles and miles. And then a shining world, iridescent, places that didn't exist. War then, war and blue light. And then it calmed, stilled to nothing. He blinked and saw a window. Walked closer. Before he could look out he woke in frustration to the flashing lights above his head. Even the air smelled different now, an unusual antiseptic smell that he hadn't noticed before. There weren't many colors at all, their surroundings were composed of only a few colors, a lonely, dismal spectrum from stark white to metallic grey and black.

He now lived for the moments when he could talk with Anon 1 quietly, or when they could slip away and spend a little while in each other's arms, because _she_ made sense even if nothing else did. Fortunately, Cloud was good at watching the door and all the other patients were good at being oblivious, so the two often managed to find time to lay on a bed in one of the abandoned rooms together.

''Fall asleep with me,'' Anon 1 whispered during one of these times. There was a faint pleading quality to her voice. ''Just for a little while. Maybe we'll dream the same dream.''

They did. It was as if they'd both entered the landscape of this dream from opposite sides and then met in the centre. There was a window there, panes of thick glass separating them. That was all. She could see Anon 2 on the other side, wanted to get through to where he was, but couldn't. Frustrated, she rested her hand against the glass. Anon 1 watched him bring his hand up and press it against hers, scar to scar. Then he pulled away, motioned for her to move back. He had an almost frightening resolve in his eyes when he drove his fist against the glass as hard as he could. After a few heavy blows the window finally broke, glass falling to the ground. She felt the cool skin of his hand, slick with blood as he reached through and touched her. _I'm here._

_I'm here._ The sound echoed strangely, as if it were a thought. Then they awoke, still clutching each other's hands. Something was different, she knew immediately, as if a missing piece had been returned to her. Her blood felt new. Blinking, she shook her head, clearing away internal clouds. And there it was, her name.

Darcy looked up at him with an amazed half-smile and said, ''I can hear your voice in my head.'' Then the smile broadened and she added, ''Loki.''

* * *

><p><strong>SHIELD<strong>

The Black Widow was amazed to see a wild-eyed Jane Foster suddenly come crashing into the lab. The astrophysicist looked disheveled and traumatized; her clothes were rumpled and her hair was a mess, as if she'd just woken up.

''What the hell happened to you?'' demanded Natasha.

Jane paused a moment to catch her breath. Then she said, ''I was in Connecticut. With Lugh Retnick. Loki and Darcy were there too. And something...something is happening.''

''Whoa, wait,'' Natasha held up her hand. ''I need you to slow down and start at the beginning. How and why were you in Connecticut?''

Jane swallowed, wrapped her sweater around herself. ''Lugh came to see me when I was walking around the University campus. I didn't know who he really was. He introduced himself as a scientist, said that he wanted to talk about my work. So we got to talking...we talked for a long time...and then...then it gets foggy.'' She frowned, screwing her face up as she tried to collect her memories. ''At first we were in a house, then...then I was out in the woods.'' Jane paused a moment. ''It must have been a dream but I saw an enormous...building of some kind there. It was glowing from the inside out, all lit up against the darkness. And sounds, like hundreds of voices whispering at the same time.'' The astrophysicist's eyes clouded over as she recalled, ''There was someone out there with me. It wasn't Dr. Retnick, it was another man, a tall man.'' She shivered. ''And then Darcy...''

''What?'' the Black Widow asked sharply. ''What about Darcy?''

''I could hear her, she was there, she screamed for him to stop.''

''And then what?''

The scientist's face grew grave, pale and pained. ''She said 'take me instead'. And then the next thing I knew I was back in my apartment.''

''Did you say there was a glowing structure in the woods?'' Selene spoke up from where she had been listening quietly. Jane nodded. ''It was one of the biggest things I've ever seen, it's like it went on for miles. I know it's impossible, but that's what I saw.''

''It's not impossible,'' the blonde woman said with a solemn shake of her head. ''You saw the Palace of Souls.''

''It sounds like what Olivia Ebert described,'' Andrews noted.

Natasha glared around the room. ''Alright,'' she said. ''Somebody had better tell me what the Palace of Souls is, and fast.'' She fixed the two new civilian consultants with a pointed look. Prudence simply shrugged, still seeming a bit lost, but her mother stood and began.

''The Palace of Souls is like a moveable vortex,'' explained Selene. ''A space where the normal laws of physics don't apply. It's powered by all the spirits trapped inside. They are collected and then led to the Reckoner, a presence older than you could possibly imagine.''

''What brings them there?'' wondered Andrews.

Selene gave a sad smile. ''Their greatest desire. Everyone wants something.''

''How do you know this?'' Natasha asked her. ''Is it part of your...clairvoyance?''

''I come from a very long line of wise women,'' Selene answered. ''My mother and her mother before her—we all had the Sight. We've all dreamed of the Palace of Souls at one point or another, seen those hands reaching out, those lights amid the darkness. I'm sure that you've dreamed of it too, you just don't remember. The Palace of Souls also acts as a kind of barrier,'' she continued. ''Because the vortex typically exists in places where the space between the worlds is incredibly thin, it acts as a stopper to keep that hole from ripping open completely. Unfortunately, Lugh Retnick got a little overzealous. And now there is a very large dimensional tear that's bleeding.'' She frowned deeply, her eyes glazing over ever so slightly, as if she was staring at something awful that nobody else could see.

''How do we shut it?'' Natasha asked.

''I have no idea,'' admitted Selene.

''So, that's where Darcy is now?'' Jane wondered in a grim, tentative voice. ''The Palace of Souls?''

''That's what it sounds like,'' admitted Selene.

''If Darcy's there, I have a feeling that Loki is too.'' The Black Widow said. Then she asked, ''How do we get them out?''

The blonde Witch shook her head wildly. ''You can't take something out of the Palace of Souls. It would dangerously upset the balance, the result would be akin to setting off an atomic bomb.''

''But then how did Olivia Ebert get out?'' wondered Andrews.

''I think that was just a fluke, some kind of weak spot in the vortex,'' Natasha said thoughtfully. ''And Olivia was never actually _inside_ the palace, remember? She said that the voices would call to her but she was too scared.''

''The residual effects of the vortex can spread out over a large area, that's why so many people go missing there,'' Selene agreed. ''They wander too far, lost, until they find themselves right at the Palace door. It's outside of ordinary reality, so everyone seems to simply disappear into thin air.''

Prudence, who had been silently listening the entire time, spoke up now. ''I can astral project, and I've done several trance journeys. If this Palace is outside of ordinary reality, then maybe I could travel inside, long enough to find Darcy and Loki.''

''No, baby girl,'' Selene told her with a shake of her head. ''It's impossible.''

''It's not impossible!'' insisted Prudence stubbornly. ''I'm the best at faring forth, Grandmother said I'm a natural, some day I might even be better than her!''

''_Some_ day,'' her mother corrected. ''Some day you might be, but that day will never come if you try this. If Grandmother were here, she would say the same thing.''

Prudence blinked. She seemed to be considering something. Then, after a moment she said, ''Well...why don't we ask her?''

''Ask who?''

''Grandmother. She knows more about this stuff than anyone else. If anyone could tell us how to get inside the Palace of Souls, it would be her.''

''Where is your grandmother?'' asked Natasha.

''She lives in Norway, in an area that's fairly remote,'' replied Selene. ''It's pretty hard to reach her, but she prefers it that way.''

_It can't be_, thought Natasha. Her mind flashed back to a cabin out in the snow, a time that lingered on the edges of her memory like a strange dream. Sometimes the assassin wondered if she'd ever really been there, seen the thing's she'd seen. _Of course it could be._ ''Is her name Heid?''the Black Widow ventured.

Selene nodded, seeming very surprised. ''Yes, it is. But how did you...''

''We've met before.'' That was all the Black Widow said. Then she turned to Andrews. ''Have them prep the jet.''

Before he could leave, the door opened and Steve Rogers walked into the room, a harried look on his chiseled features. ''We have a serious problem,'' he announced.

''No shit,'' sighed Natasha.

''Reports have been coming in from all over the Tri-State,'' continued the Captain, ignoring her profanity. ''Some kind of infectious neurotoxin has been released. People are...they're _changing_.''

''Changing how?''

''Exhibiting bizarre symptoms, neurological as well as physical. Increased strength, unusual and violent behaviour, xenoglossy...the list goes on.''

''That sounds remarkably like possession,'' Selene observed.

Steve looked over at the blonde woman curiously. ''I'm sorry ma'am, I don't believe we've met before.''

''Captain, these are my civilian consultants, Selene Sang and her daughter Prudence,'' the Black Widow introduced them. ''They're helping with a case. A case which, unfortunately, might have something to do with these new developments. Selene and Prudence, this is Captain Steve Rogers.''

''Captain America, _wow_.'' Prudence went momentarily starry-eyed. Her mother simply nodded at him and said, ''What you're describing, I don't think it's any kind of manmade biological weapon. I think it's a direct result of the dimensional rip that occurred during the eclipse. Lugh Retnick opened a door and that allowed...creatures, beings, whatever you want to call them...to come through unchecked. They're seeking bodies, host vessels for themselves. That's what's causing the symptoms you're seeing. And it's only going to get worse, I can assure you.''

Steve frowned deeply, but he seemed interested, almost enough to be convinced.

''Ok,'' said Natasha after considering the developments of the last few minutes. ''Steve, assemble everyone. Get Stark and Banner on trying to analyse this supposed toxin. Contact all the local hospitals and the health department and have them put quarantine procedures into affect.''

The Captain nodded. ''What are you going to do?''

The redhead's lips set in a line. ''I'm going to Connecticut, to the Restored One's compound.''

Selene spoke up urgently. ''It would be incredibly dangerous for anyone to even go near that place now. It's ground zero for the invasion,'' she protested.

''I don't care, I'm going there has to be some kind of clue, something useful. If Retnick opened the portal from that location, we might also discover the way to close it.''

''I'm going with you, Ma'am,'' Andrews said firmly.

''No,'' she replied.

Andrews squared his shoulders and stared at her. ''I helped send you off on a suicide mission once. I'm not letting you go alone this time.''

He really was a sweet kid, Natasha thought to herself. ''Ok,'' she relented. ''You can come.''

''What about me?'' asked Jane, who was still lingering off to the side like a thin shadow. ''I want to help.'' Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.

''Stay with Selene and Prudence for now,'' instructed the Black Widow. ''The three of you seem to know a bit about portals and vortexes, figure out everything you can about the Palace of Souls, from both a scientific and...magickal standpoint. I'm sending a jet to Norway. Pru, you may be right-I think your Grandmother just might be able to help.''

* * *

><p>Completely waking up was choppy at first. Everything came back slowly, pieces at a time, as if heavy anaesthesia was wearing off. While Darcy was delighted to remember her identity, and Loki's, unfortunately she'd also now remembered who the tall man really was. Memories of their last days in Retnick's house came flooding back, she saw Penelope's dark eyes and grotesque smile as she'd lifted the leader into the air, crushed his windpipe as if it were a paper bag. Ethan Montauk lying dead in the garden. And Jason the Reckoner, smiling, always smiling with his cold blue eyes. ''I don't get it,'' she whispered to Loki. They were sitting beside each other in the common room, talking in hushed voices. ''What does he want from us?''<p>

Loki shook his head. ''He doesn't want anything from _us._He wants you. He wanted you since the moment he laid eyes on you, possibly even before. I'm willing to wager that he had something to do with Retnick bringing Jane to the house. He knew that you would volunteer to take her place. I don't think that he planned on me being here at all, that wasn't a part of his original plan.''

''Is it really that _simple_?'' Darcy wondered incredulously.

''Obsession is never simple,'' Loki answered in a dry tone. ''I can assure you of that.''

''Ok,'' she said with a nod. ''I have an idea. I'm going to pretend, pretend that I'm 'cured' or whatever, that I'm ready to be with him. I'm going to make him show me his true face.''

Loki didn't like the sound of that one bit. He didn't want Darcy to go anywhere near the Reckoner, he wanted to crush the bastard's skull with his bare hands. It was one thing to threaten the realms, that happened all the time. This, however, was personal. The Reckoner seemed alarmingly monomaniacal, and his sole focus was Darcy. That made Loki particularly enraged. Still, some reluctant part of him agreed that she was correct in her assessment of the situation. This was, though unfortunate, the best way of going about things. ''Be careful,'' he said.

Sure enough, the Anunnaki came for her a short time later, one of them carrying that same black dress. Darcy obediently got up and followed them into a room, allowing them to dress her and fix her hair. Then they led her out and away down the hall. Loki's chest felt crushed as he watched her pass, even as she quickly glanced over and winked at him.

_Mine_, he thought as she disappeared around the corner. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand. _Mine, mine, mine._

Clear-headedness came with an accompanying slow horror as Darcy took in her surroundings with new eyes and began to realise just what exactly was going on, that this so-called Palace was in fact some sort of bizarre institution where everyone was essentially being kept in a drugged and complacent state. For what purpose, she dreaded to know. The tall, expressionless beings silently led her along until a door at the opposite end of the corridor opened as if in anticipation of her arrival. And there stood the Reckoner, waiting.

''Come in, my darling,'' he said, ushering her into the room and dismissing the Anunnaki. The door closed behind them as they departed, leaving her alone with him. Jason pulled out a chair for her and helped her to sit down, then took a seat across from her. The interior of this space was different than any other she had seen yet in the Palace, Darcy noticed. Everything was very white, all of the furniture and walls, sparse and minimalist. The only decorations of note were some very strange, ancient-looking statues that sat on small shelves in various corners of the room. There were also a few slabs of broken stone, covered in alien-seeming etchings. There was something quite familiar about the script, it itched at Darcy's brain as she stared at it.

''How are you feeling?'' Jason asked, leaning closer. Inside the Palace, he looked even thinner and uglier, as if his skin was a mask that was stretched over his bones too tightly. Something awful lurked just behind, trying to pry its way out.

''I am here and well in the Palace of Souls,'' she replied in a light, almost robotic tone. Darcy made her gaze as vacant as possible.

He smiled a revolting, delighted smile. ''That's wonderful, darling. Very soon you're going to be all better. And then you can stay with me forever. You'll be my queen. Doesn't that sound nice?''

''Will I have a name, then?'' she asked, feigning excitement at this prospect.

''I'll pick a perfect name for you, once you're mine,'' he said. Then the Reckoner's smile faded as he glanced down at the ring on her finger, his expression darkening bitterly. She knew that she'd never be his.

''I'm going to tell you a story,'' he began, gently stroking her hand as he spoke. ''Once there was a beautiful princess. She was trapped, but she didn't realize it. She was always guarded by a monstrous dragon, with blue scales and red eyes, one that breathed ice instead of fire. This dragon could shapeshift, and so he tricked the princess into believing that he was a handsome young man, rather than a beast. Until one day, a knight came to rescue the princess. He slew the dragon, and the enchantment fell away. He took her to live in an enormous, glowing palace, and gave her everything that her heart could desire.''

_This bitch is tripping,_ thought Darcy to herself. She plastered a simpering smile on her face and said, ''And then did they live happily ever after?''

''For the remainder of time,'' he replied, seeming pleased. Then he stood and held out his hand. ''Come with me, my love. I want to show you something.'' He led her out of the room and all the way down the corridor until they reached the front doors, the doors that she had never been beyond. The Reckoner paused at what seemed to be some kind of utility closet and pulled out two of those eerie respirator masks. ''Allow me,'' he said, carefully fastening the mask over her face as if she were a child that needed help dressing itself. His movements would have been condescending had they not been so disturbingly affectionate. Then he took her by the hand and pushed a button on the wall. The doors slid open and she felt a flow of oxygen suddenly flood into her mask. ''I'm going to show you your new world.''

Foggy bright light assaulted Darcy, a strange swirling mist that swallowed them both up the minute they stepped out. She could hear the doors shutting behind her and her heart began to thud in a panic. She felt Jason's hand on her shoulder, guiding her along. The thick fog that permeated everything seemed almost...alive. It pulsed and undulated in a way that reminded Darcy of a huge jellyfish moving through the water. They had been walking for a very long time when the mist began to dissipate to reveal another large set of steel doors. The Reckoner reached out and pressed a button and then they clanged open as he led Darcy onto what she realised was an elevator. The car descended for miles, down and down. There were no floor numbers inside to indicate a stopping point, so she had no way to gauge their destination, or even where they had started from. It just continued to move until it finally came to a stop.

When they stepped out, there was no fog, but there was a very large glowing light up ahead. Jason now took Darcy by the hand and led her onto a steel mezzanine with a railing around it. ''It's alright,'' he reassured her. ''Don't be afraid.'' He gently pulled her along until they were standing near the edge of the rail. Looking down in shock, Darcy realised that they were now thousands of feet in the air; below them was an enormous chasm that appeared bottomless. Yet in the centre was that huge light, like a core. It burned a violent bright white, churning and rotating. It looked like some kind of power cell, or a reactor. And there were sounds. Almost like human voices, so many of them that they all blurred and melded together into a single hum.

''Desires make such a marvellous resource,'' the Reckoner said with a toothy smile. Behind the mask, Darcy's eyes had widened considerably as her breathing quickened.

''Is this...some kind of a ship?'' she asked.

The Reckoner nodded. ''Yes, in a sense. We've been gone a long time and yet we've always remained.'' Then he added, ''Humans are a rare species, strangely unique in the universe.''

Darcy was too confused and frightened to be able to think properly, but she had enough wits still about her to remember that she was supposed to be playing a role. Jason was clearly showing her this because he wanted her to be impressed. ''This is amazing,'' she told him, forcing an awed tone and trying to keep her voice from shaking. ''You must have been working on this for a long time.'' Then Darcy winced as she realised that she's mentioned 'time', which seemed to be a no-no in this place. Thankfully, the Reckoner seemed not to notice her slip-up.

''I waited patiently until the opportunity came my way,'' he replied. ''And then I was lucky enough to find you, my Princess. You see, I needed everything to be absolutely perfect. The second eclipse that occurred was a signal. A signal that the second wave had begun—a giant green light. Thanks to help from a friend of mine, I was able to continue to fuel my Palace. Not that you have to worry about any of this, of course.'' Jason laughed lightly and squeezed Darcy's hand, graced her with one of his wide and eerie grins. ''It is the destiny of the humans,'' he continued, with a glance over the edge of the rail. ''To be Restored. They live their whole lives feeling like there is a piece of them missing. A restless longing for something that they can never quite name. It lives inside all of them, that spark. We ignite it, so that they might see. So that they can wake up.''

''The essence must be returned,'' he added, still staring down the abyss, down to where the reactor glowed brightly. ''The solid that we collect-the ones still with bodies-have a harder time of it. A longer process is required to strip the essence away. Luckily, we've been perfecting it. There will be a large influx soon. The ones who are not Chosen shall be led here.''

''To be fuel,'' Darcy realised aloud.

''To be reabsorbed,'' he corrected. ''To return.''


	17. Chapter 17

_God help thee, old man, thy thoughts have created a creature in thee; and he __whose intense thinking thus makes him a Prometheus; a vulture feeds upon that heart forever; the vulture the very creature he creates._

**-Herman Melville**

Darcy kept her face as blank as possible while the Reckoner led her away from the reactor and back to the unit, but really she was memorising the way that they had gotten there, trying to learn the layout of the Palace. Jason was humming to himself, he seemed very pleased with her apparent 'recovery'. They were back on the elevator, the one with no buttons or floor numbers. She wondered how in the hell it operated, and then she realized that it was some kind of biometric system. When Jason leaned towards a very small censor in the door, it scanned over him and then the car began to move upwards. ''I'm so glad that I could show that to you,'' he told her.

Darcy forced a smile. ''I'm happy that I could see it,'' she told him, hoping that she sounded sincere. Once the elevator stopped moving, the doors slid open and they found themselves once again amid that terrifying fog. She couldn't see through it at all, and so she paid close attention to her footsteps, counting as Jason led her through. ''_Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen_,'' she counted, and then the steel door to the unit loomed up in front of them. Jason pressed one of the buttons on the side panel, and Darcy noticed for the first time that several of them displayed strange letters, glyphs that were incredibly foreign and yet also annoyingly familiar. She knew that she had seen them somewhere before but couldn't place it at the moment.

Once they stepped back onto the unit, Darcy saw that the lights were flickering again. This had been happening fairly often now, as if there were something wrong with the wiring. As they approached the front desk, she was presented with an eerie, unsettling sight. There was something wrong with the Anunnaki seated there, its head was cocked at a weird angle and one of its hands hung frozen in midair, halfway to the keypad, as if it had been reaching and then suddenly rusted and stalled in one place. Its eyes stared straight ahead, not blinking at all. Jason frowned and moved closer. Then the lights flickered again with a crackling sound, and the Anunnaki stirred to life and continued on with its motions as if nothing at all had happened.

After changing out of the black dress and into her grey clothes, Darcy went back to the common room. Her mind was still dazed by what Jason had shown her. Now, looking around, she was hit with a panicked claustrophobia as she realised what was eventually going to happen to all of these people. Overcome with nausea, she wondered how long it took to strip a soul away from a body, what that process looked like. Darcy assumed that it was something that happened slowly and methodically, and it had already begun. These patients were all in the first stages, probably, still having their mental state worn further and further down until they were essentially lifeless. She dreaded to know what happened after that, when they were moved to the next floor down.

Loki noticed the stricken look on her face as she sank down into a chair. After a few moments he inched over and sat beside her.

''What did you see?'' he asked quietly.

''The truth,'' Darcy whispered. ''Listen.'' She closed her eyes and allowed her memories of seeing the reactor flood from her mind to his, watched his eyes widen as he saw.

''He's collecting them, as many as he can. What does he need this fuel for? Just to keep the Palace running? Or to move it somewhere?''

''He's been able to run it fine all this time with...with what he already has, so I think that he _is_ trying to move it,'' she replied. ''I think that this Palace is, or was, really some kind of huge ship or transport. Jason said something about how they've been gone a long time and yet always remained. He has to be from another world. Maybe he was like...marooned here somehow thousands of years ago and he's been building the Palace all that time to try to get back home.''

''Where is he from, though, that's the question.'' Loki sat thoughtfully for a minute. As he did so, he noticed one of the tall creatures walking down the hall. The sight made yet another question itch at his brain.

''What _are_ the Anunnaki?'' he asked. ''Are they human? Or some kind of machine?''

Darcy shuddered and shook her head.''I don't know. I think it's kind of an android situation, like David from _Prometheus. _If they all looked like Michael Fassbender at least this place would be a little more pleasant,'' she joked. ''But in all seriousness, I really do think that they're at least part machine. Look how weird they act when these glitches with the wiring happen. Maybe they're all like...networked, somehow.''

''It's entirely possible. If this is a ship, then they might be connected to it.''

She stared sadly at the window. ''I wonder what's going on out there,'' Darcy said, as a tear threatened to fall. ''I hope everyone is ok.''

Then she sighed. ''There has to be a way out, something that we're missing. The Reckoner and Anna Lily can obviously travel in and out of the Palace without much difficulty. We just have to figure out how.''

''Well, Jason has a body, for starters. A stolen body, but a physical form nonetheless. Anna-Lily isn't corporeal. The mechanism of travel has to be different for both of them.''

''I can try to get him to tell me,'' Darcy offered.

Loki shook his head. ''No. Smitten though he is with you, he's not stupid. If you start asking questions like that, he's going to catch on.''

''I'm not going to just outright ask him,'' she protested. ''I was hoping to sort of just...lead him into telling me, I guess.''

He quirked an eyebrow at her. ''And how were you going to do that? I really don't like you playing this game with him.''

''Just one more game,'' she wheedled. ''One more.''

''No!'' Loki said, a little more loudly than he would have liked. Thankfully, nobody noticed except for Cloud, and she quickly pretended that she hadn't. ''Why not?'' hissed Darcy. Though she knew that he was trying to protect her, she was annoyed with his attitude. ''Because you don't_ understand_,'' Loki ground out, sounding pained. ''He's completely and utterly obsessed with you. Obsessed people do some very irrational and dangerous things. Their minds grow clouded.'' Then his voice softened. ''Do you remember when we were in Asgard, and you told me about a book called _Moby Dick?_''

She nodded, also calming minutely. ''Yeah, I remember.''

''Well, I decided to read it, mostly to see where the coffee fit in.''

Darcy looked very confused for a moment.''The coffee...oh, you mean because I told you that Starbucks got its name from the book. Starbuck was the first mate on the ship.''

''Yes, I figured that out quite early on. Despite being a little long-winded in parts, it was actually a good read. I was particularly interested in Ahab.''

''He was a pretty crazy dude,'' Darcy conceded with a nod.

''He was _obsessed_,'' Loki corrected. ''Monomaniacal. His obsession blinded him to all reason, what was that wonderful line...'_wild__ madness that's only calm to comprehend itself._' The Reckoner is similarly afflicted with monomania, and his focus is you now. I'm willing to wager that he doesn't even really know why he wants you, only that he does.'' The god reached over and gently brushed his fingers against Darcy's, looked deeply into her eyes. ''If you asked _me_ why I want you, I would say because you are brave, and kind, intelligent and courageous and a bit of a stubborn smart-ass sometimes. You're also delightful in bed,'' he added, finally coaxing a smile from her. ''If you were to ask the Reckoner, he would hide behind his famous line and simply say that 'everyone wants something'. This is his way of rationalising his obsession. He doesn't need a reason, and there probably isn't one. Just madness comprehending itself, over and over, until there's nothing else left.''

* * *

><p>''There are probably going to be dangerous levels of radiation due to the portal ripping open,'' Natasha explained to Andrews as they prepared to leave for Connecticut. ''We'll both need a specialised suit and a geiger counter.''<p>

The Black Widow's young assistant was trying not to display any outward signs of nervousness, and though it wasn't entirely working, he was making a valiant effort, she had to commend him for that. ''Ma'am, what exactly are we going to find once we get there?'' he asked. ''I'm...I mean, I have no idea what to expect.''

''We never do, Andrews. Sometimes it's almost better if we don't know what to expect. It makes us anticipate anything.'' She patted him on the shoulder.

They were flown to their destination by helicopter. Natasha supposed that more than a few people were starting to panic and leave the city because looking down from hundreds of feet in the air she could see that the traffic was even more awful than usual. There were all kinds of ridiculous, sensationalised reports about the 'virus' on the Internet and the news networks already, everyone from clergy to random people on the street seemed to have their own ideas of what was going on—theories ranging from bio-warfare to the Book of Revelation,extraterrestrials, and everything in between. The sky, which had been bright and sunny earlier in the day, was now growing overcast. The assassin gave a sigh as she recalled the events of the previous year, when the heavens had undergone similar ominous changes. She instinctively knew that they wouldn't see the sun again for quite some time.

The flight was quick and the land was large enough that they could set down without any difficulty. Andrews and the Black Widow climbed out of the helicopter, safely cloaked in their radiation suits. Natasha took a look around, she could see the mansion looming up ahead, and the trees on either side. She immediately didn't like those trees, they seemed to be watching her. Andrews seemed similarly unnerved, he shivered a little as they walked towards the house. ''What's that?'' the young man asked, pointing to something on the ground up ahead. Even before she moved closer, Natasha's heart gave a tiny throb of fear as she knew immediately what it was-a human body.

''It's Lugh Retnick,'' she said grimly, bending down to get a better look. ''The cult leader. He must have been killed recently, within the past 48 hours, it looks like.''

''What killed him?'' asked Andrews.

Natasha frowned as she studied the corpse. ''The ruptured blood vessels in the eyes, the marks on the neck...strangulation, most likely. Whoever did this was strong.''

''Ma'am...I think...there may be another one, over there.'' Andrew's hand shook a little as he pointed to a small garden off to the side of the house, a few yards away. Natasha got to her feet and walked over. Sure enough, a second body lay there, a smaller man. Natasha didn't recognise him, she assumed that he was probably one of the members. ''I can't see any visible marks on this one,'' she said. ''We'll need an autopsy to determine the cause of death.''

''What do we do now?'' her assistant asked.

She nodded towards the mansion. ''We keep moving. I'll call back to headquarters and have them send a team to come and take care of these bodies.''

Natasha was amazed at how large and elegant the house was on the inside, yet it had a ghostly aura about it, the air hung thick and heavy. She and Andrews moved through very quietly, as if they were frightened of waking something. Though the mansion was only recently abandoned, it seemed as if it had been closed off for a long time. The redhead's eyes were drawn to the large staircase leading down into the foyer. ''Let's go up there,'' she said, and he dutifully followed her. The staircase brought them up to a landing that split and led into corridors on either side. ''You go left, I'll go right,'' Natasha told him. Andrews nodded and slowly made his way in the opposite direction. Natasha kept walking, softly. She was beginning to notice something interesting about the door frames, they were all different. And some of them had markings carved into the wood. Pausing, she snapped pictures of each one.

''There's writing on the walls in here...'' Andrews' voice came from down the other end of the hall. ''I don't understand any of it.''

''Get photos of everything,'' she told him.

He didn't say anything else for a moment. ''Andrews?'' she asked. ''Do you copy?'' Then she heard him, his voice over the comm sounded faint and almost mesmerized.''I can hear...singing,'' he said.

* * *

><p><strong>SHIELD<strong>

Jane Foster had been quietly working with Prudence and Selene on trying to determine the way that the Palace of Souls operated. Though she had initially been wary of the two self-described Witches, the scientist had to admit that they both seemed to know an impressive amount about physics. They simply didn't call it that. They called it magic, the way Thor did.

''There has to be some kind of core to the 'Palace,'' Jane noted. She was working on a rough diagram of the structure. ''A source that creates the perpetual vortex. It would be something incredibly powerful, almost like a particle accelerator. What's amazing is that it's so stabilised.''

''You're right,'' said Selene. She was frowning. ''There_ is_ a power source. It's the souls. The Reckoner has found a way to utilise them as energy.''

''I don't...I don't believe in a soul,'' admitted Jane, with a small shake of her head. ''There's no scientific evidence to support the existence of one. Consciousness, emotion, all the things that we attribute to the soul are actually completely neurological, rooted in the brain. There isn't a separate...piece residing somewhere inside that leaves the body after death and goes somewhere else.''

''You make a valid point,'' replied Selene, sitting down beside the scientist. ''However, think of it another way. We're all made up of energy, thousands upon thousands of particles operating at incredible speeds, all the time. It's that spark, in the brain, as you said, the electrical impulse that keeps everything flowing. And energy, as we all know, cannot be created or destroyed, it only changes form. While we're alive, that energy is constantly powering our bodies, like fuel for a ship. Our bodies are our own personal Palaces. But eventually, we break down, or are knocked down; we become corroded. Our bodies fail one way or another but that energy, our core, the spark that powered us all those years, it goes on and on, as energy does, flowing back into the universe, continuing the cycle. We_ do_ go on.''

Against her will, a tear came to Jane's eye. ''It really doesn't sound so bad when you say it like that.''

''No, honey,'' Selene said softly. ''It isn't bad at all.''

Just then the door opened. Jane turned at the sound and then sucked in a deep breath, blinking in amazement to see Thor standing there. She was frozen in surprised delight for a moment, and then she rushed for him, throwing her arms around his enormous bulk. ''I'm so happy that you're here,'' she managed to say before she started crying. ''Are you alright?'' he asked her, holding her gently. She nodded. ''Yeah, I'm ok now.'' Jane collected herself and then turned around and began introductions. ''Thor, this is Selene and Prudence. They're working with me. Pru and Selene, this is Thor.''

Prudence almost fell out of her chair. ''You mean, _the_ Thor?'' she exclaimed disbelievingly. ''So...we've got Loki, and Thor...and they're _real?_''

''For someone who can supposedly astral project and travel to other worlds'' Jane said, a small, amused smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, ''You seem very surprised by this.''

''I just...I mean, I assumed that they were just myths,'' stammered Pru. ''Concepts, you know, archetypes in the collective unconscious.''

Selene snorted. ''I told you not to read so much Jung.''

''Who is Jung?'' asked Thor. He seemed very confused.

Jane patted him on the shoulder. ''Don't worry about it. So, why are you back? I mean, not that I'm not thrilled to see you, I just...I get the feeling that this isn't a social call.''

''I was sent here by my father,'' Thor replied. ''He said that a new darkness was spreading on Midgard. Frigga also said,'' the god hesitated a moment, then continued, ''she said that you, Darcy and Loki were all in danger.''

''I'm safe now,'' the astrophysicist told him reassuringly, ''but...we can't find your brother and Darcy. We think that they're trapped in some kind of a very large and very powerful structure, one that's almost impossible to get out of once you're inside. Selene and Prudence and me have been trying to figure out how it works, hopefully then we can figure out how to get to them.''

The god frowned deeply, and Jane continued. ''There's more, too. A portal has been pulled open between our world and others, like what happened in New York before, only different. Things are coming through and...they're...spreading around like a virus. Infecting people, inhabiting their bodies.''

''An invasion,'' Thor replied, his eyes narrowing.

''Yes,'' Jane said with a nod.

''I will do my best to see to it that this invasion is stopped. I'll talk with Banner and the others and see what they've found. But first,'' he said, looking down at Jane, ''I'm going to take you someplace safe.''

* * *

><p><strong>The Palace of Souls<strong>

Darcy lay sprawled on a chair near Cloud and Loki, her legs draped over the armrest. This seemed to be a good position for thinking. ''The spell,'' she whispered to Loki after a long while spent contemplating what they had discussed before. ''The reversal spell. You still have it hidden. Do you think we could-''

''No,'' Loki answered before she could even finish. ''There's no way, it would be far too dangerous. If it worked, then this place would cease to exist—with us still in it. Perhaps once we get out.''

''_If_ we get out, you mean,'' she said glumly, staring at the window again. Her eyes were continuously drawn to it, it was a fixed point that helped her to concentrate, despite its essential uselessness.

''I'm not good at being the optimistic one, love, I need you for that,'' Loki told her. ''Stop moping and think.''

''The books,'' Darcy said suddenly, with a quick glance over to where Cloud was sitting. She swung her legs around and sat up straighter.

''What?'' he asked.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. ''Cloud's books. This is something that's bothered me since the beginning. Where did they come from? Nobody else here has books, or magazines, or even _paper_.''

''Have you ever seen what's inside of them?'' he wondered.

''No, she's just always reading them. Like, compulsively reading, the way she did back...you know, back in reality.'' Getting to her feet, Darcy walked over to the girl and yanked the book out of her bony hands.

''Hey!'' she yelped. ''What are you doing?''

Darcy narrowed her eyes in exasperation as she flipped through it. ''There aren't any words on the paper,'' she said, holding the book up in front of her friend's face.

''Yes there are, I can see them!'' Cloud protested, her face screwed up in outraged confusion. As he watched this scene unfolding, Loki could see that she was telling the truth, or at least she _believed_ that she was.

''If you can see them, then what do they say?''

She shook her head furiously. ''I can't tell you.''

''Why not?'' Darcy asked, her hands curling into fists at her side, resisting the urge to throttle the thin girl for her vagueness.

''I don't know, I just _can't_!'' She hissed this angrily, though she now looked like she was about to cry.

''Fine,'' snapped Darcy, tossing the book back at Cloud. ''Don't be mad at me,'' the girl whimpered. ''It's not my fault.''

''I know, I know it's not your fault,'' she said, softening a little, though she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Closing her eyes, Darcy sighed deeply, trying to calm herself. When she opened them, she saw Cloud staring back at her with a curious expression. ''What is it?'' she demanded. ''What are you looking at?''

''Nothing,'' her friend replied, blinking. ''I thought I saw something.'' Then the lights flickered on and off again, stuttering strangely before finally returning to normal.

One of the Anunnaki then came hurrying by with Dr. Ereshkigal. Darcy managed to catch a bit of what they were saying. ''...They're detecting a foreign entity somewhere, it's throwing off the grids.'' it noted in a flat tone.

''That's impossible,'' replied the doctor. ''It has to be a malfunction. Sweep for bugs again.''

''Why are they having so many problems?'' Darcy wondered quietly.

Loki's voice came beaming into her mind.'_'I don't know, but I think that we can use this to our advantage_.''

Then she turned back and it caught her eye, and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. Darcy has known that there was something odd about the window, besides the unchanging scenery outside of it. Moving closer to inspect, she saw that all along the metal window frame there were tiny glyphs etched into the alloy. They resembled the markings that she'd seen on the elevator buttons, the ones that had seemed annoyingly familiar. Suddenly, she remembered where she'd seen the same letters before. In three different places, in fact: on the wall in Cloud's room after she'd disappeared, in the missing pieces of the grimoire that had been hidden in the ceiling in Paris, and more recently, on the stone tablets in the white room where she was taken to meet with Jason. Darcy hadn't been able to piece it together before, her mind was still a little soupy despite being able to now recall much of her memory. Though with the aid of the Well she'd once been able to read this language, that knowledge had apparently been chased away once she'd entered the Palace.

''What is it?'' Loki asked, seeing her eyes light with understanding.

''I'm trying to remember,'' she said.

* * *

><p><strong>SHIELD<strong>

Tony Stark and Bruce Banner were cloistered in one of the bio-med labs, having a meeting of sorts. The Black Widow had quickly briefed them on what was going on, though she'd been a bit vague. Banner knew more than Stark about the supposed outbreak, he'd been in contact with a few acquaintances from various medical centres in the area who had been sending him their findings. Everyone seemed to be at a loss.

''Why are we taking directives from Natasha anyway?'' Tony asked the scientist. ''Where's Fury?''

Bruce shrugged. ''He's out of the country, supposedly. Left two days ago, some kinda secret bullshit thing, I don't know. Natasha and Steve are in charge until he gets back.''

''I saw Thor,'' Stark mentioned. ''He barely even said hi, just barrelled down the hall and then went off somewhere with Foster.''

As he searched through files on his tablet, Banner said, ''I heard that Foster's now somehow involved in that case Natasha was working with Loki and Darcy.''

''Yeah, about that. Where the hell are Beauty and the Beast anyway?''

''Natasha said that their whereabouts are unknown at the moment.''

''Those two have a hell of a talent for vanishing,'' noted Tony. ''And she's got a talent of vagueness and information withholding. There's so little to go on here.'' He sighed. ''Alright, we have to start somewhere. What have we got?''

''Ok,'' said Bruce, pulling up some images on the screen in front of them. ''From what we can tell it starts at the brain, and then begins alterations on a cellular level until it literally changes the genetic structure. There's no way to form an antidote, the symbiosis is too complete. You can't kill the virus without killing the host—they're one in the same.''

Tony looked perplexed by this. ''How does it _spread_? Is it airborne? And have we confirmed that it even is a virus?''

''The speed of infection would imply that it is airborne, but somehow no,'' Bruce said, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt. ''It doesn't make any sense, there's no pattern to the infection. For example, there were two reported cases in New Haven, across town from each other, a twenty year old student and a forty-seven year old businessman. Both had contact with innumerable other people in the general area, yet they're the only ones in that town who contracted this. I don't think it's transferred through person to person contact, either.''

''Viruses aren't...selective like that. They are in the basic sense that they find the most suitable host available to them, but this requires a greater level of intelligence and forethought,'' Tony stated. ''It requires...sentience.''

''And that's what scares me,'' Bruce added.

Stark materialised a small bag of almonds seemingly out of nowhere and began munching on them as he contemplated this for a moment. Then he asked, ''Any cases reported in the city yet?''

''Three, so far. Two in Manhatten, one in the Bronx.''

''Three already...and how many others?''

''Twelve in New Jersey, seventeen in Connecticut so far.''

''How does it move so damn fast?'' Tony wondered, narrowing his eyes. ''What's the incubation period?''

Bruce looked grim. ''Symptoms generally begin within a few hours of exposure, sometimes less.'' He pulled up a photo of one of the infected that had been sent to him from the Yale-New Haven Hospital. ''Jesus!'' Stark exclaimed, lurching back a bit at the sight.

''Confusion and disorientation present first, along with pallor of the skin, and changes in the appearance of the eyes. Then,'' Bruce clicked to the next picture, ''a black discharge starts from the mouth, along with marked vocal chord changes, deepening of the voice. Neurological changes escalate: motor function impairment, aphasia, and memory-loss. This eventually escalates into a kind of psychosis, which is where things start to get _really _strange.''

''Do tell,'' Tony said dryly. He quickly put the almonds away, the images in front of him having destroyed his appetite.

''Increased strength. Unnatural contortions of the body, xenoglossy-''

''_Xenoglossy_?'' Stark interrupted with a disbelieving cough of laughter. ''Are you _sure_? I've seen a lot of strange things, but I've never heard of a virus that causes the spontaneous ability to speak another language.''

Bruce didn't say anything, just clicked a link to a video file that was sent to him. A young, clearly infected woman was curled into an odd position on the floor. She was talking, but not in any language that was familiar to Tony. ''What the hell...?''

''It's an early form of Babylonian,'' explained Banner. ''Linguistics experts at Yale have confirmed it. It probably hasn't been spoken in thousands of years. This girl has never spoken anything besides English, has never been out of the United States.''

Stark gave Bruce a long, hard stare. ''This...isn't a virus.''

''No, it's not,'' Bruce finally admitted, albeit grudgingly. ''It's something else. Before she left, Natasha gave me all the files from the case that she was working on with Loki and Darcy.''

''That cult thing?'' Tony asked.

Banner raised his eyebrows. ''You know about it?''

''Of course. I know everything.''

''That is a gross overstatement, even for you. Alright then, All-Knowing One, tell me what's going on here.''

Tony cracked his knuckles. ''As I said, not a virus. These people are possessed.''

''I don't believe in possession, Stark. I'm a scientist.''

''Forgive me for saying so, but _you_ of all people should understand something about being possessed,'' the billionaire said wryly. ''Listen, I'm not necessarily talking about head-spinning, green vomit, we need an old priest and a young priest kinda stuff. I'm talking about otherwordly beings that behave _like_ a virus or _like_ a parasite. It's kinda like those zombie apocalypse movies. Person gets infected, starts to change. Except it's on a more complex level. For all we know, there's all kinds of different beings coming through that portal, with their own characteristics, mannerisms, kinks, whatever. Yes, everyone infected seems to be exhibiting similar symptoms, but I'm willing to bet there are more distinctions. That girl was speaking Babylonian, right?''

Bruce nodded.

''Did they happen to identify any other languages in different patients?''

''As a matter of fact, yes. It ranges from Sumerian to early Latin, but there are some that simply can't be identified.''

''Those must be beings not familiar with Earth,'' said Tony with a nod. ''Maybe they're from farther away. Ok, so now at least we have something to work with.''

''Not much,'' admitted Bruce.

''Quit being such a Debbie Downer,'' Stark admonished the scientist. ''It's not an attractive look. Do we have any kind of a translation of what they were saying?''

''I can call the doctor who sent this to me and find out.''

''Do it. You know...this would be a lot easier if we actually had one of the infected here.''

Bruce made a face. ''Be careful what you wish for, Tony.''

**Connecticut**

''Andrews—get back here!'' Natasha loudly hissed. ''Don't listen to it, it's a trap!'' Her feet pounded against the floorboards as she raced down the hall. She arrived at the doorway in just enough time to see a strange, dark shape collecting itself in midair. The geiger counter that she carried began climbing, noting a drastic spike in radiation levels. Andrews stood in the centre of the room as if frozen to the spot, just staring at the apparition in front of him as if mesmerized. Natasha could almost see glistening, awful eyes and a mouth somewhere in the shifting mass, and she wondered if she was imagining things, even as the cloudlike formation dove directly for Andrews. His suit offered no protection, in an instant it had swarmed over him and then Natasha realized in horror that it was _inside_ his suit, she could see it under his mask, dissolving _into_ him, as if he were absorbing it. ''No!'' she screamed, and then he fell to the floor in a daze.

The Black Widow ran to her young assistant, then reached for her comm. Behind the mask, Andrews' eyes looked dazed and glassy. ''What happened?'' he asked, blinking.

''Sssh, it's ok,'' she whispered. ''You're going to be fine.''

Quickly, she called Bruce Banner. ''It got Andrews,'' she said in a cold, quiet voice. ''I'm aborting this mission, we're coming back. I need you to get a decontamination unit ready and set up a quarantine.''

''Natasha, it might not do any good-''

''I don't care! Get it ready.''

''Understood.''

* * *

><p>Something was definitely going awry with the wiring of the Palace of Souls, and the disturbances were only increasing. The flickering and stuttering of the lights was growing more frequent and insistent. It was particularly disorienting for the patients-since their only real distinction between sleep and wakefulness was marked by specific flashes of light at different intervals, this glitch was causing seizure-like symptoms in some of them. Lethe was working constantly, dispersing her weird potions amongst them, trying to even them out. More of the Anunnaki were also acting strangely, freezing up the way the one at the desk had when she'd returned with the Reckoner.<p>

Everyone had been sent to their rooms early while 'necessary maintenance' was performed. Annoyed, Darcy lay awake and stared at the ceiling, hating that Loki was so far away from her. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, to picture in her mind those foreign glyphs and force herself to recall what they meant. ''Come on,'' she whispered to herself. ''You know this. You _know_ this.''

All of a sudden there came a crack of electricity, like a transformer blowing. The lights went out completely. Everything was dark for a moment, and then a few very weak emergency lights came on, though they didn't help much. Darcy hesitated for a moment and then walked over to the door and peeked out. The hallway was empty, except for someone up ahead, in the dim light that she could see the ghostly outline of a tall figure standing there, not moving. By its size, she assumed that it was one of the Anunnaki. Heart pounding, she crept out of her room and tried to get her bearings in the darkness. She nearly jumped a mile when she felt a hand on her arm. _Relax, it's just me_, Loki whispered into her mind, putting a finger to his lips. _We need to be quiet. What happened?_

_I don't know_, she replied. _I think that the power went out._

Together, they moved slowly down the hallway. Darcy's eyes widened as they came closer to the front desk. The person standing in the hallway was indeed one of the Anunnaki, completely frozen in place. ''Look,'' she whispered. Its gaze was fixed dead ahead in an eerie stare. There were now no pupils visible in its eyes at all, they had been completely swallowed up by blank, bright blue. She noticed that the one seated behind the desk was also stalled in place once again. _It's like something...unplugged them. _

_Where's Dr. Ereshkigal?_ Loki wondered. _More importantly_, replied Darcy, _where's the Reckoner?_

Loki didn't answer her at first. He was staring at something else. _Turn around_, his voice came after a moment. She did so, very slowly. There stood Anna Lily, right in front of them. Darcy gasped a little and jumped back. ''How..how did you get here?'' she asked, resting a hand over her pounding heart.

''Not everything dies the same way,'' the child said, holding out her tiny hand, beckoning them to follow her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys! I hope everyone is doing well! Thank you, as always, for all of your reviews; here is the next chapter for you! Please let me know what you think! **

* * *

><p><em>By that hidden way<em>

_My guide and I did enter, to return_

_To the fair world: and heedless of repose_

_We climbed, he first, I following his steps_

_Till on our view the beautiful lights of Heaven_

_Dawn'd through a circular opening in the cave:_

_Thence issuing we again beheld the stars._

**-Dante Alighieri, ****_Inferno _Canto XXXIV**

**SHIELD**

''Why did it get him and not you?'' Bruce Banner asked Natasha as they stood by the observation glass, looking into the room where Andrews was being kept.

''I guess he wanted something. It must have sensed that,'' she replied quietly. Banner rested a hand briefly on her shoulder and then walked back down to the opposite end of the hall, leaving the Black Widow alone with her ailing assistant.

''I'm so sorry Ma'am,'' said Andrews. He was leaned against the thick glass of the quarantine cell, propped there like a rag doll.

''You have nothing to apologize for,'' she told him firmly, kneeling down so that they were eye-level.

''At least you're safe,'' the young man whispered, giving her a painfully soft look. Even after only a few hours the infection had taken a massive toll: his skin was growing sickly pale, almost grey, and there was darkness clouding in the corners of his eyes. Cold sweat shone on his face and matted down his sandy blond hair. ''It must be nice not to want anything.''

Suddenly, Natasha felt as though she was about to cry. She knew that she should never have let Andrews come with her to Connecticut, but she hadn't quite understood the depth of his feelings for her until now and she hated herself for being so blind. ''_I'm losing my grip_,'' she thought. The assassin was now bitterly aware that she had grown more...soft over the past year and a half, and that wasn't a good thing, in her mind. All of the things that she'd seen had shaken her to her core, rattled something loose. Created a weakness, one that was putting the people that she cared about in danger. The Black Widow tried to force herself to turn to stone again, reform her mask, but it was difficult. Suddenly, she almost hated them all for making her feel.

''Oh, Andrews,'' she whispered.

''Charlie,'' he said with a sad half-smile. ''You can call me Charlie now. You might as well. I won't be for very much longer.'' He coughed and black fluid came spilling out of his mouth.

''Charlie,'' Natasha repeated softly, resting her hand against the glass. She sat beside him for a long time.

* * *

><p><strong>The Palace of Souls<strong>

''Where are we going?'' Darcy asked Anna-Lily as the little girl silently led them towards Room Three, the grey metal doorway looming coldly up ahead. ''And what's happening? Do you know?''

''Sssh,'' she responded, pressing a finger to her lips. ''There isn't much time. And we have to be quiet. You can't go out the front door,'' added the girl. ''They'll find you. You have to go through the Memory Chapel first.''

''What is the Memory Chapel?'' wondered Darcy with a frown. Anna Lily didn't answer, she simply opened the door. On the inside, the infamous Room Three was a cross between a torture chamber and an operating room. It had those same stern metallic walls as much of the rest of the Palace, but there were strange, unpleasant-looking devices and lights and instruments everywhere. In the center of the room sat what looked like some kind of gurney with restraints on it, including an intricate looking piece at the top that reminded Darcy of a helmet. ''What the hell goes on in here?'' she breathed, feeling slightly nauseas at the sight, and at the knowledge that she'd been here before, strapped to that gurney.

''It's where you forget,'' replied Anna-Lily simply. Her face was blank and sad, the face of a doll left out in weather too long. They were now at the opposite end of Room Three, thankfully, and Darcy could see that there was yet _another_ door there. She almost hadn't noticed it at first, it appeared to be camouflaged, it blended right into the wall, scarcely revealing its edges. The little girl hummed to herself as she pressed the buttons on the door, which soon slid open to reveal a passageway beyond. ''Come on,'' she said, gesturing for them to follow her. The air was, surprisingly, breathable. The passage went on for several feet, leading to a large, dark circular chamber with what looked to be an enormous computer screen in the centre. It bathed everything in an eerie pale blue-green light. ''This is the Memory Chapel,'' Anna-Lily told them, pointing. ''Put your hand on the screen.''

Hesitantly, Darcy did so. The machine hummed to life at the touch, scanning her. ''2 matches found,'' a message read. Two photographs of herself with accompanying dossiers suddenly appeared on the screen in front of her. ''Lewis, Darcy'' read one, and it listed her date and place of birth, height, weight, and other facts. The other had the same picture, but slightly altered, as if it were an old photo negative. ''Sigyn'' it said. ''Date of birth: unknown. Place of birth: unknown.''

''She's still there,'' Darcy breathed softly, leaning closer. ''Like my shadow. She'll always be there.'' She spent a long moment looking at that image, realising how different it was from the other one. Though it was _her_ face, the eyes were so impossibly sad and weary.

''Why are you helping us?'' she asked Anna-Lily after a moment, shaking away the sudden feeling of grief that had overtaken her, brushing away a stray tear.

''You listened to me,'' came the tiny reply. ''And the tall man let that monster kill my father. I saw.'' Her eyes cast downward, she looked at her shoes. Then she looked up again, imploringly. ''If I show you the way out do you promise to stop the tall man?'' Anna-Lily's pale face seemed more real now, alive with childlike expressiveness, less like a doll.

Darcy knelt down in front of her and nodded sincerely. ''Anna-Lily, I swear, if you help us, I will stop the tall man. And I will stop all the monsters.''

After considering this promise for a moment, Anna-Lily slowly raised her arm and pointed to still another door on the opposite side of the chamber. ''That's the way out.'' Darcy crossed the room to get a better look, Loki following after her. There was a very large and intricate-looking keypad along this new door, she noticed as they approached, with those strange, annoying symbols that had been haunting her brain. It looked as though the only way through was to punch in some kind of code. ''Do you know the combination?'' Darcy asked hopefully. Anna-Lily shook her head and her face fell. ''Shit,'' she muttered. ''That would have been too easy. Well, at least we're getting _somewhere._''

''You need to go back now,'' Anna-Lily told them suddenly, a troubled look crossing her face like a shadow. ''The tall man is getting angry.'' She brought her hand to her mouth and bit down on her knuckles in fear.

''Do you know what's wrong with the power?'' Darcy asked her.

The little girl just stared at her for a moment, then said, ''There's someone here who isn't supposed to be. Someone who wasn't here before.''

''Who?'' Darcy scrunched her face up in confusion. Anna-Lily didn't reply, just kept staring. Then she simply said, ''Hurry.''

**SHIELD**

A tiny old woman wearing a long skirt and a shawl arrived at headquarters soon after Natasha had returned with Andrews, not looking the least bit intimidated by SHIELD or anyone that she'd yet encountered there.

''Hello again, fierce girl,'' she softly greeted the Black Widow, resting a hand on her arm. Natasha tried not to let her expression betray the emotions crashing around inside of her, she simply gave Heid a small smile and said, ''Thank you for coming.'' She led her to the room where Selene and Prudence were working. ''Where's Foster?'' she asked, frowning, seeing that Jane had once again vanished.

Prudence looked up from the laptop she'd been provided with. ''Thor came and took her somewhere.'' The young woman shook her head. ''This place is crazy. Grandmother!'' she cried happily, her face lighting up as she saw Heid standing there beside Natasha. ''Hello my dears,'' the old woman said to Pru and Selene, hugging them both.

''Now. Tell me what you have found,'' she said, suddenly all business.

''Not much,'' admitted Natasha. ''I assume you know about the dimensional tear that's occurred.''

The old woman gave a slow, grim nod. ''Yes, yes. Dark gods are returning, to take back this world. They seek their vessels, their chosen ones.''

''Is there any way to stop this? Anything that you can think of?''

Rather than answering the question, Heid gave her a long, knowing look and asked, ''Where are they?'' Natasha sighed, understanding immediately who she meant.

''They're...lost, or trapped, in the Palace of Souls.''

''Hmmm,'' Heid said, frowning. ''That is not a good place to be lost.'' She seemed to be thinking about something. ''But all hope is not gone, never gone.'' She sat down at the table. ''Let us get to work.''

**Asgard**

Jane admittedly didn't remember much about Asgard from her last visit there, having been essentially comatose for most of it. Still, when she first got a look at that shimmering, iridescent city looming up into an alien sky she felt a vague tremor of recognition go through her. Everyone that they passed regarded her curiously as Thor led her into the palace, where Odin and Frigga were waiting. There was a somber atmosphere to the space now, everything was very heavy, hushed, and quiet, like autumn.

Thor opened his mouth to begin but Jane rushed ahead. ''It was my fault; I'm sorry!'' Her voice echoed in the room. She moved forward, stared up imploringly at the King and Queen. ''Darcy traded places with me, sacrificed herself. And now she and Loki are both trapped. I...I made some terrible decisions...and now...'' the scientist desperately fought back tears. Slightly startled by her outburst, Thor pulled her securely against him, running his large, warm hand over her hair.

''Sssh, it's alright, dear,'' Frigga spoke soothingly. ''It wasn't your fault. You had no way of knowing,''

''Is there anything that you can do?'' Thor asked his father. Odin raised an eyebrow.

''There are many things that I could do,'' the Allfather admitted, ''but at this moment, that would be premature. Things are still moving, unseen. I will take no action at this time, however,'' he said, with a glance at Jane. ''I will once again grant your friend asylum here on Asgard to ensure her safety. _You_ will return to Midgard and aid in the fight against this enemy, and in the search for your brother and Darcy.''

''Do you think that we'll be able to find them?'' blurted Jane hopefully.

Odin said nothing but Frigga gave a slow nod. ''I believe that they will be found,'' the Queen replied.

The scientist felt a glimmer of hope light in her heart, breathed a little sigh of relief.

After Thor and Jane had left the room and they were alone, Odin turned to Frigga. ''You failed to mention certain-''

''That does not need mentioning at this time,'' she told him calmly. ''It is only one possible outcome. As you said, my dear, things are still moving.''

* * *

><p>In the hall outside of the throne room, Jane walked over to one of the large windows and looked out, feeling very small. Then she heard footsteps and felt Thor's arms come down around her. ''Please talk to me,'' the god said. ''I know something has been troubling you.''<p>

''I think I've been a bad friend,'' admitted the scientist. ''I've been selfish.'' She looked down at the floor, needing to confess something and yet not quite ready to. ''I just want to be able to be with you for longer. I don't want to be robbed of time.'' She heaved a sigh. ''I just got so...scared, and I know that you have a very important job to do but...I love you, and I don't want you to forget me. I know that we can't be together forever like Loki and Darcy but-''

Thor gently tilted her face up towards him with his hand, halting her words. ''There is always a way,'' he said, then kissed her.

**SHIELD**

After she'd made sure that Andrews was resting as comfortably as possible, Natasha went to check on Prudence, Selene, and Heid. The old woman was now sitting very still on the floor with her eyes closed. She'd been like that for several minutes, apparently. ''What is she doing?'' the redhead whispered to Selene. ''Trying to get a lock on Loki and Darcy's energy, to get a sense of where exactly they are and what's happening,'' she replied.

''Let me know when she comes out of it,'' Natasha told the blonde woman, who nodded. She then went down to the basement laboratories in search of Bruce Banner and Tony Stark. The room was littered with empty coffee cups and strewn papers. Graphs and charts were displayed on various screens, as well as images of some of the infected. Both men looked entirely exhausted.

''The number of infected in the city is increasing at an exponential rate,'' Bruce was explaining. ''Soon the hospitals are going to become overwhelmed.''

''What do we do with all of them?'' asked Tony in a weary voice, rubbing his eyes.

The scientist shrugged heavily. ''Set up quarantines in select points of the city. That seems to be the best option at the moment. Call Rogers and let him know. Natasha, I have a question,'' he added seeing her in the doorway, waving her over. ''I've been going through some of the files that you gave me. What are these autopsy reports from?''

Her lips set in a tight line. ''They were from the three bodies that were recovered in the woods near the Restored One's compound in Connecticut. It was the main reason that I decided to send Loki and Darcy there to investigate.''

''And where are they now?'' Banner asked, his brow furrowing.

''In cold storage, in the sub-basement levels,'' she replied.

''Wait!'' Stark demanded, rousing into sudden alertness. ''You mean, you've had these bodies_ here_ the entire time?''

''Yes!'' the Black Widow cried exasperatedly. ''But they're not going to be any help. They never completely transformed.''

''Half caterpillar, half butterfly,'' remarked Bruce.

''_Demon_ butterfly,'' Tony corrected.

''Mothra.''

''Guys, shut up and do something constructive!'' ordered Natasha the sleep-deprived men, massaging her temples with her fingertips. ''I can get you clearance to look at the bodies for all the good it'll probably do us,'' she snapped, stalking off down the hall again.

''What's with her?'' Tony asked, once she had departed.

''I think she was fond of the kid.'' Bruce replied, thinking of Andrews slumped on the floor of the containment cell. He'd given the young man some sedatives, but he doubted they'd be much help, his metabolism was changing too quickly for them to take effect.

''She's also fond of Loki and Darcy.'' Tony added. ''I think she feels responsible.''

''Nobody could be responsible for those two, they're a force of nature,'' the scientist said, allowing a small smile to cross his face. Then it vanished as quickly as it had arrived and he said, ''But you might have been right, about something that you said before. Having Andrews here might actually be a good thing.''

''Let's hope so.'' Tony yawned and stretched, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes for a moment. ''I get the feeling that we're running out of time.''

* * *

><p>Darcy and Loki quietly returned to the unit and once they did so Anna-Lily vanished again. Things didn't seem to be going well there, whatever malfunction that had occurred still wasn't repaired. Fortunately, nobody noticed that they had been gone. Lethe, looking far more eerily pale than usual, was still rushing around trying to tend to the patients, who were not doing well. Some were catatonic, frozen in one spot, others were manic—rocking, talking, chattering and singing, making absolutely no sense. Some of the Anunnaki had regained a basic functionality, they could move and talk but just barely. Staring at one of the tall humanoids, Darcy was weirdly reminded of the tin man from <em>The Wizard of Oz<em>, rusted and in need of an oil can. She almost laughed. Then she had an idea. Trying to move quickly so that she wouldn't be spotted, she ducked around behind the front desk. The Anunnaki seated there was stalled once again, eyes a pale sea of blank blue. Its key card hung from a lanyard on its belt. Darcy reached out with trembling fingers, secretly terrified that it would suddenly rear to life the minute it was touched. Fortunately, it didn't. It might as well have been made of stone. She managed to snatch the card and then tuck it away.

''I'm going to go to the Reckoner's office, that white room,'' she told Loki as she rejoined him, showing him the keycard that she had stolen. They were hiding in the alcove near the common room, where they could watch what was transpiring. ''I need to see the stone tablet that he's got, it's the only way that we might have a change of figuring out the combination to that door.''

''Fine, but I'm going to wait for you right outside,'' he told her firmly. Darcy nodded, reaching out and taking his hand, giving it a squeeze. They waited until the hall was clear, then hurried along down to the opposite end. Thankfully, there was a slot in the side of the door, and it opened when she slid the card along it. Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and ducked inside. As she did so, Loki was immediately distracted by sounds of chaos. Some of the patients were now getting violent, striking aimlessly at nothing, others were attacking the more mobile Anunnaki. He saw Lethe put her hands on her head, momentarily overwhelmed. Dr. Ereshkigal came running down the hallway. ''Doctor!'' she cried. ''What's going on?''

''There's been a major malfunction. The grids are completely scrambled, they detected an additional life form somewhere that hasn't been accounted for,'' she explained, looking tired and haggard. ''Which is completely impossible. It's got to be a virus of some sort.'' Her usually neat personage was in total disarray, her hair pulling loose from its usual tight bun and her glasses sliding down her nose. ''Nearly all of the Anunnaki are offline, and now it looks like the Memory Chapel has been breached.'' She paled. ''Master is not happy.''

The sound of shouting carried over from the common room as another patient starting throwing himself against the walls in some sort of fit. And then Loki saw Cloud, now standing only a few feet away, clutching one of her books. She was frailer and thinner than ever, wearing a disoriented look on her pale face, as if she were trapped between sleep and wakefulness. Blood was slowly trickling out of her nose and dripping down to splatter her gray shirt. ''I can't see them anymore,'' she said. She was looking at Loki but she might as well have been staring right through him. He wondered if she was actually talking to him at all. ''The words,'' she added, drooping her head to gaze mournfully at the book in her hands. ''The words are all gone.''

He started forward towards her, but then a strange jolt of fear made him turn around, look back towards the room where Darcy was.

* * *

><p>Darcy's heart was pounding crazily in her chest as she hurried over to the stone tablet that was still sitting on the shelf in the empty white room. For a moment she was struck with a pang of fear as she was reminded of the wall panel down in the tunnels of the World Tree, the place where she had died. Then she shook the thoughts away and took a good, long look at it, trying to take a mental photograph. It looked almost like some sort of Rosetta stone, and she wished that she could take it with them when they left for later study, but that wasn't practical at all: the thing was way too cumbersome and heavy. The letters were still familiar but illusive, and Darcy decided that she was going to have to get by on memory and dumb luck to figure out the combination to the door—she had no idea if these characters were numbers or letters or a strange mixture of both.<p>

Then Darcy heard a noise behind her, subtle, but it was there. She wasn't alone. Before even turning around she knew that it wasn't Loki, a cold chill swept over her and she immediately sensed the Reckoner's dark presence. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned. He looked pale and very thin, like a scarecrow and not a man.

''No,'' he said, staring at her in sudden furious disbelief. Darcy recoiled as something changed abruptly in his thin face, as if his human shell was beginning to crack, the horror behind it straining his skin, clamouring to show itself. ''No, it can't be.'' She had no idea what he was talking about. Then he lunged sharply, tried to grab her. His hand clamped down around her arm so tightly that she was afraid that he was going to break it, brought it down against the desk and held her there. Despite Darcy's best efforts to wriggle away she was trapped. The Reckoner's eyes burned with cold malice as he snapped his fingers and then she saw the shimmery glint of metal as the long knife suddenly appeared. He pressed her wrist down firmly, trying to force her hand to flatten out, his horrid gaze fixed on the ring on her finger. ''You little _slut_,'' he hissed. ''I should have known.'' All the breath went out of her lungs as she watched the knife coming down toward her hand, but just then he was knocked away from her as Loki appeared.

Darcy was momentarily struck by the sheer amount of rage on her lover's face. It seemed to make his eyes shine from the inside as he was lit by an almost otherworldly power. He was, in that moment, absolutely terrifying and yet somehow still beautiful. _That's what a god looks like_, thought Darcy, clutching her bruised arm.

Loki threw Jason to the ground and pummelled him, unleashing every ounce of his fury as his thumbs found the Reckoner's eye sockets and applied a tremendous amount of pressure. He screamed and screamed. ''I know that you'll just find another body, you bastard,'' he told him. ''But for right now, I want you to endure this.'' He pressed even harder, crushing until blood poured down Jason's mangled, stolen face.

''We have to go now!'' screamed Darcy, finally regaining her wits. ''Just leave him!''

They ran out of the room and made a beeline for Room Three. ''What about Cloud?'' Darcy said, feeling a small pang of guilt as she looked back over her shoulder. Loki shook his head as he wiped the blood off of his hands with his shirt. ''We can't take her with us, you know that. Once we get out, we will find a way to free all these people, but we have to focus now, alright?'' ''Alright,'' Darcy responded wearily, though she hated the fact that once again she had failed to save the thin, sad young woman.

They raced past all the unpleasant-looking equipment and then through the shadowy glow of the computer in the Memory Chapel until they reached the door with the keypad. Darcy stood for a moment, stared at it with trepidation, her hand trembling. She forced herself to focus, to try and see if the symbols made any kind of sense, if she could put them into an order. Darcy had no idea how she was going to figure out the combination to let them through. Even if she knew exactly how to read the language, she had no way of guessing the correct code. She was going to have to use her intuition. She'd gotten through doorways before without knowing how, back on Asgard when she'd tapped at the stones on the wall to make it open, her instincts had simply taken over. At least this doorway wasn't speaking, that was a small mercy. She stood for a moment with her eyes closed, trying to harness all of her perceptive abilities and direct them towards this goal. ''Please,'' Darcy whispered and then she was suddenly very calm, a warmth started inside of her and radiated out through all of her limbs. Strangely, she felt, no-_knew_ that everything was going to be ok. As if on its own, her finger reached out and punched five of the glowing symbols one at a time, and she was flooded with an otherworldly confidence that it was correct. The keypad lit up a bright green and the door slid open. Loki let out a sigh of relief and they moved through.

They were greeted by a rush of cool air, almost like a breeze weaving through the dark tunnel that greeted them. Darcy could see a light up ahead and a flicker of movement, a blur. Then the blur steadied itself as they approached and she could see that it was Anna-Lily. Once they reached her at the end of the tunnel, Darcy realized where they were. They were on the other side of the core of the Palace, across from where the Reckoner had taken her before. That glowing, whirling light now looked almost like a building storm, spinning haphazardly like a confused tornado. Then Darcy noticed that off of the edge of the railing on this side was a ladder. It stretched down and down, she couldn't see the bottom, it was drenched in that storm of souls. A storm that they would need to pass through in order to get out, apparently.

''We have to climb down,'' she realised, swallowing hard. ''But...there's...there's no end to it.''

Anna Lily nodded at her. ''There is. You just can't see it from here.''

Darcy turned to Loki.''We can do this, right?'' she asked him. Her voice shook with doubt.

''We have to,'' he replied, then turned back to see that Anna-Lily had pulled her typical disappearing act yet again. Sighing, he climbed over the railing and onto the first rung then began climbing down slowly. ''Come on,'' he urged her.

Vertigo tore through Darcy as she swung her legs over the side of the rail and got her footing on the ladder, trying desperately to avoid looking down. ''It's alright, sweetheart,'' Loki said encouragingly. ''Don't think about it, just keep moving, one foot at a time.''

''I hate heights,'' she whispered, jittery pins and needles swishing coldly through her blood. ''I mean, I _really_ hate heights.''

''Do you remember that one night in Tokyo when you'd had far too much sake and decided that you were going to sing karaoke?'' he asked her in his calm, hypnotic voice.

Darcy moved her foot down to the next rung and laughed weakly. ''Yeah, I remember. I made a total ass of myself.''

''No, you didn't,'' he said with a smile. ''It was rather sweet.''

She realized that she'd made it down a few more rungs without thinking about it, his attempt to distract her was working. ''My favourite was when those two older ladies kept flirting with you at that restaurant in Prague, the one we went to after we saw that weird Astronomical Clock.''

''I rather liked that clock,'' Loki admitted.

''I liked that beer we had, the one that was about 11.5 percent alcohol.''

They were now almost at the swirling light, Loki realized. The rest of the ladder beneath them disappeared into the cloud, which they were going to have to pass through. He had no idea what they were going to find there, but he prayed that it was nothing, that it would be just like brushing through ordinary fog.

''And then we stayed up all night and watched the sun rise from that bridge,'' he said, now trying to distract himself as well as her.

''The Charles Bridge. I remember,'' replied Darcy. ''Everything was so...quiet and still for a minute. There were only a few other people there. I remember the way the light reflected on the water. It was sparkling. And all of those statues looked like they were sleeping.'' Tears came to her eyes at the memory. ''I want to go back there again,'' she whispered.

The cloud had now swallowed them up, Darcy realized, trying not to panic. Then she heard them.

Thousands of souls swirling like ancient starlight, singing their own music. Emotion and memory, the essence of so many lives, all condensed into a sound. But along with the sound came feelings, feelings so intense that they might as well have been razors slicing at Darcy as she climbed. Her mind was attacked by shards of memory, falling like hail, just scraps and brief images, but still all carrying their own weight. Her skin went clammy, she felt nauseas and lightheaded. Spots clouded her vision and her ears rang as if her blood pressure was plummeting. Her fingertips began to go numb until she felt like she was dissolving, until there was nothing but the sound.

''I can hear them,'' she whispered, trying to clutch the ladder with her useless, heavy hands. ''All of them.''

Loki was also now decidedly uncomfortable, the noise of the souls made his skull feel as though it was about to implode.''Don't listen,'' he called to her. ''Just keep moving!''

It was too much. The dizziness and the sound of that awful choir had overwhelmed Darcy completely. ''I can't,'' she said. ''I _can't_.'' Then he watched with horror as she let go, and fell. He tried to grab her as she tumbled down past him but he wasn't quick enough. Fortunately, though both Loki and Darcy were too disoriented to know it, they were almost at the bottom of the ladder and so there wasn't too far of a drop. The problem was that Loki had absolutely no idea where they were going to find themselves once they fell through the rest of that dreadful whirlpool of light. He figured that he would find out soon enough as he let go of the ladder, let himself fall after her.

* * *

><p>They were on the ground, outside. That was the first thing that she became aware of. She could feel fresh air on her face, and was grateful for it. Darcy's whole body felt crushed and weak as she looked up at the trees. Always trees, Darcy thought to herself, trees and sky. At least that sound was gone, she could no longer hear those trapped, stolen souls. Turning her head with all the strength she could manage she saw that Loki was lying beside her. His eyes were closed but one of his hands was clutching her wrist. Then she heard a sound, saw a helicopter arriving from between the branches. Everything still felt upside-down. Then she passed out.<p>

Darcy woke with an intense feeling of deja vu as she saw white walls and Bruce Banner adjusting the IV in her arm. ''How long was I asleep for?'' she croaked out. ''About seven hours,'' he replied. ''And before you even ask, Loki is fine. He'll be back in a few minutes.''

''Alright, I guess we have to do this again,'' she mumbled. ''How soon can you get me out of here?''

''Well,'' he said, looking suddenly hesitant, ''I wouldn't go rushing things, Darcy, I want you to take it slow and just rest-''

''Why?'' she asked, trying to sit up. ''Is there something wrong?''

''Physically, you are surprisingly healthy, however...'' his voice trailed off. ''However...what?'' she demanded, a flutter of anxiety passing through her.

Bruce shifted a little on his feet, then asked, ''Darcy, did you know that you're pregnant?''


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and feedback! I'm glad that you guys are liking the new development! ;) Here is the next chapter for you.**

* * *

><p>Loki had reluctantly left Darcy sleeping. He'd woken a few hours before her, back at headquarters. The god was surprisingly uninjured from their journey back to the world: he had a few scrapes and the residual dizziness and vertigo were quite annoying, but slowly fading away. As soon as he was on his feet again, of course Natasha had come barging in demanding to see him. Strangely enough, the redhead didn't bombard Loki with a thousand questions, she simply led him downstairs to a restricted access room. Its antechamber led to a large glass quarantine cell with an unused bed and various machines off to the corner. On the floor, like a pile of rags, lay a figure who was unrecognisable at first, but then when Loki moved closer he saw that it was Andrews, the Black Widow's assistant. The young man was clearly in the middle stages of Restoration, the pallor and black-stained teeth gave it away. He appeared to be asleep, at least for the moment, though he didn't look comfortable.<p>

''I'm sorry,'' Loki said, because that was what Darcy would probably say in a situation like this. It seemed like the appropriate response. Natasha let out a rough, ugly laugh. Then she slumped her shoulders a little and said, ''It's not your fault. I know that you and Darcy tried your best. In fact, you went above and beyond, _however_, I am extremely upset that you didn't let me know what was going on sooner.'' She frowned, stared straight ahead, looking into the room but not really seeing anything. They were both silent for a long, pensive moment, and then Natasha spoke again.

''When he opens his eyes,'' she said, gesturing toward Andrews, ''something else is going to be there, right?''

Loki nodded. ''Yes, I'm afraid so.''

''Where is he?'' asked the Black Widow. ''Where are all of them—the people who get infected? Do they go to the Palace of Souls? Or are they still in there somewhere, just pushed down?'' Her tone of voice was cold and flat, like ice, and Loki knew that she was pained by the question.

''I don't know,'' he answered honestly. ''How fast is it spreading?''

''Too fast. There's something bigger going on,'' Natasha told him, her voice dropping low, almost to a whisper as she continued, ''There has to be. This isn't just about some madman in Connecticut who made a deal with the dark side.'' She swallowed hard, her eyes still fixed dead ahead.

Frowning, Loki asked, ''How do you know?''

''I just have this terrible gut feeling. Like we've been set up. Like we're too late.'' Then she blinked, straightened up and turned briskly to leave the room; she seemed to feel that she'd said more than she wanted to. Loki took a last glance behind him, then followed her, pondering her words, turning them over in his mind. He parted ways with Natasha in the corridor, she told him that once Darcy was awake and able she would be back to debrief them both, a process which the god was dreading. When he came to the door of her room, Bruce Banner stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

Loki narrowed his eyes at this. ''What?'' he asked the scientist. ''What is it?''

Bruce hovered hesitantly for a moment then said, ''There's something I have to tell you. About Darcy...she's _pregnant_, already several weeks along.''

Loki couldn't speak. All the air seemed to have gone out of the room. He stood absolutely still and silent as a statue for a moment as he tried to let that statement and its ramifications sink in. ''Is she...is she alright?'' he finally managed to ask.

The scientist nodded. ''Physically, everything seems to be fine. But, I'm not exactly an expert on this sort of thing,'' he added.

''Does she know?'' asked Loki.

''Yes,'' replied Bruce. ''I told her as soon as she woke up. Judging by her reaction, I went out on a limb and guessed that this was unexpected.'' He fell silent then, seemed to be considering something. Then he added, ''I'm...I've decided not to tell Fury about this.''

''Aren't you _obligated_ to disclose information of this nature?'' Loki asked, his tone more meanly sarcastic than he meant it to be. His head was spinning, he groped blindly for a way to centre himself.

Banner shook his head. ''I'm making a judgement call, let's just put it that way. I _am_ going to tell Natasha though, if that's alright with you. I know that you two haven't always gotten along in the past but she really does have your best interests at heart, and someone here besides me should be aware of the situation.''

Loki managed a nod. ''Fine. You can tell that woman, but nobody else right now, do you understand me?''

''I understand,'' the scientist replied sincerely.

The god took a deep breath and opened the door.

Darcy looked over when she heard him enter the room. The look on her face was hard to define, she was wide-eyed and disbelieving, something else too, a soft awe that shone in the edges of her eyes. It was a look that he was going to remember for a long time. He wordlessly sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. ''You know?'' she asked. Loki gave a nod. ''I know.''

''How did this _happen_?'' breathed Darcy, resting a hand on her lower belly. ''I mean...didn't you say that you were always careful, like you used some kind of contraceptive mojo or whatnot?''

''I did,'' he replied emphatically. ''I always did...'' Understanding dawned then, with the abrupt force of a bullet. ''Unless I didn't remember that I needed to.''

''The Palace of Souls,'' she realised, pieces of memory fluttering back to her, wispy and dreamlike. ''That's where it happened.'' _Something's glitching up the system. They're detecting a foreign entity somewhere. _Now the Reckoner's odd behaviour made sense, Darcy winced as she recalled the horrifying look on his face, the pressure of his hand nearly crushing her wrist. _You little slut._ ''It's how we got out. All those problems with the wiring-it was all because of...because of this.'' She sat in silence for a moment, trying to absorb everything. ''Bruce said that I'm probably already about five weeks,'' she told Loki, then added, ''That doesn't make any sense.''

Loki shook his head. ''There isn't any time in the Palace of Souls, remember? Everything gets distorted. To your body, it may very well have been five weeks.'' He reached over and placed his hand over hers.

Darcy bit her lip and didn't say anything else. Then she took a deep breath and said, ''Ok. Ok. We need to focus now. We'll talk about this later, but right now I'm not going freak out, I'm gonna pretend like everything's cool and we're just going to get through this day.''

Loki didn't want to get through the day, he wanted them to _leave_, to leave SHIELD immediately and possibly Midgard as well but the look on Darcy's face told him that she needed to be here, that she wasn't quite ready to really discuss their new situation.

* * *

><p>They spent the next several hours being debriefed, which was wearying but at least it took Darcy's mind off of her newly-impending motherhood.<p>

It was strange to see clocks again, she realised. It felt good to be able to ask someone what time or day it was and have them answer. It didn't feel so good, however, once they learned what had happened in their absence. It could have been a hundred years that she and Loki were trapped in the Palace of Souls, but it had only been three and a half days in reality. Like a very strange and involved lucid dream that had taken them out of the world for awhile.

Once Bruce had finally removed her IV and announced that she could get up, Darcy would normally have asked for coffee, but now she wasn't sure. 'Coffee's one of those things that pregnant women aren't supposed to have, right?' she wondered. 'Or it's ok, but just in small amounts?' Darcy suddenly felt like she was going to cry; she realized that she had absolutely no idea what pregnancy entailed or how to behave during it. Before meeting Loki, she had been totally adamant that she wasn't going to have kids. So many things had changed.

Suddenly, the smell of patchouli oil infused the air and Darcy spotted a familiar small figure in the hallway. ''Prudence?'' she said, confused by the sight of her former roommate. The hippie girl looked wildly out of place at SHIELD. She looked up at the sound of her name and then let out a gasp, running over and throwing her arms around Darcy, who asked,''What are you doing here?''

''Well, it's kind've a long story,'' the other woman admitted, releasing her. ''Selene's here too, and so is my grandmother. We were working with Jane to try to figure out a way to get you guys out of the Palace.''

''Where is Jane?'' asked Darcy, looking around. ''Is she safe?''

Pru shook her head. ''She's not here right now, she went somewhere with Thor. She's safe, just kinda...sad and stressed out. But hey!'' The young woman impulsively wrapped Darcy in another quick, tight hug. ''You're _back_. It's incredible. We were all so worried.''

Just then an older woman appeared beside her. Darcy nearly fell over in shock to see Heid. ''Oh my god! Is it really you?'' she cried. The seer grabbed her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. ''Welcome back,'' she said. Then Heid gave her a look that was almost too knowing, not exactly a smile, though. It seemed as though she wanted to say something but Natasha arrived then to debrief her.

''Debriefing'' was a necessary annoyance that accompanied arriving back from any sort of mission. And if it was a mission that had taken an unusual turn, it lasted for even longer. Unfortunately, she and Loki needed to be interviewed separately, and she had to give as detailed an account as possible of everything that had happened and answer an enormous barrage of questions. Darcy knew that they weren't going to be able to get away with giving vague answers or claiming amnesia about the whole thing this time. And, unhappily, she could remember everything. So that's what she told Natasha, who was looking quite grim by the time the whole process was over.

''Why didn't you call me before?'' the redhead asked, in a soft tone tinged with weariness round the edges. ''Once Retnick sent you both back, you should have immediately let me know what was going on, we could have...''

''We thought that it would be safer this way,'' Darcy replied honestly. ''We didn't want you to walk into a trap. ''

Natasha looked down at the desk for a moment, then raised her head and said, ''While I appreciate your concern, that wasn't your call to make. Still, when I chose you both for the assignment, I knew what I was getting into, so I have only myself to blame.'' She sighed. ''But it is good to see your reckless, stupid face again, I'll admit,'' she added, allowing a small smile. ''And also...I've been made aware of your new...situation. This was a big surprise, I take it?''

Darcy nodded.

''Well, one thing at a time,'' Natasha said briskly, and then got onto a different subject, seeming to sense that Darcy was almost craving a distraction, even if it was an unpleasant one. ''I'm going to try to see if I can track down old army records for Lugh Retnick and the other two men, Joe Haven and Ethan Montauk. I'm also going to get everything I can on Anna-Lily Jones, maybe even some clue as to where her body is being kept. And...I want to know more about Lord Walters. He must have had more to do with this than we know; he was the one who had that book to begin with,'' she noted thoughtfully, wondering, ''Why did he have it—I mean, curiosity is one thing, but it doesn't make you search all over the whole world to piece together one manuscript. That's_ obsession_. And how did he know about it to begin with?''

''I don't know,'' said Darcy. ''Do you really think that any of that is going to help what's going on now?'' She realized as she asked the question that she was starting to sound like Loki. She was again reminded of their conversation at Retnick's house. _What makes you think that there were answers at the beginning?_

''Yes, actually, I do,'' replied Natasha. ''There are answers, there are _always_ answers, but often they're hidden. Sometimes the past is the only chance we have of saving the future. Speaking of which...'' she tapped her finger against the desk, then leaned forward a little. ''I've got to be honest, I'm more than a little troubled by certain coincidences that have cropped up in this case. You said that you dreamed about Anna-Lily before you even knew she existed, and she specifically gave you a warning, she said,'' Natasha looked down at her notes, '_they are coming. And when they come for you, you'll be sorry_.' Then, of course we have Helen Walters, your tragic apartment ghost. Who just happens to be an enormous part of this hidden story. And the final pages of this...Necronomicon, or whatever the hell it is, just happened to be hidden in your ceiling the whole time. What I'm trying to say is, I'm worried about you and Loki. Especially given the recent...developments. You said that this Reckoner person was obsessed with you, tried to hurt you. And he's still out there. He's going to find a new body. And when he does, he might come after you.''

A terrible, jolting chill ran through Darcy as a thousand fearful thoughts clouded over her mind, darkening it. ''How bad has it gotten, really?'' she asked, trying desperately to change the subject again.

''Bad,'' replied Natasha, once more sensing how uncomfortable she'd gotten. ''And even if there were some way to close the portal, do you think that it would do any good? They're already _here._''

Shaking her head, Darcy replied, ''I don't think that just closing the portal in and of itself is enough. Like I told you, we found that reversal spell hidden in Paris. It seems like the best option at this point.''

Natasha didn't look convinced at all. ''Perhaps,'' she said. ''But I don't want to think about that until I know beyond a reasonable doubt that we've exhausted every other possible option.'' She glanced down at her watch. ''Alright, we're done for now. You and Loki can go home and get some rest, but I want you back here tomorrow morning.''

''Are you sure?'' Darcy asked hesitantly. ''I mean, isn't there something else we can help with-''

''Darcy,'' the Black Widow addressed her in a firm tone, ''Go home and rest. Ignoring it is not going to solve anything,'' she added knowingly.

* * *

><p>There was a kind of tremor to the air as they left SHIELD, a fearful, chilly undercurrent that wove insidiously through everything. It was the feeling of being watched, like the feeling one gets when alone in a dark room, fingers creeping along the spine. The sky had darkened considerably, there was no snow or rain, though, nor any of the violently swirling cloud formations that had taken over the heavens during the apocalyptic storm of the previous year. There was just a angry deep grey colour that loomed ominously. ''It's like the world is haunted,'' Darcy observed as they entered the front door of her apartment building, ducking gratefully inside of the bright lobby.<p>

''It is,'' replied Loki, putting his hand on the small of her back. They didn't say much to each other once they returned. Darcy seemed to be trying to avoid discussing the subject of her pregnancy as much as possible, which was understandable but impractical. Almost the moment that they arrived home she pulled out her laptop and the photos that she'd taken at Retnick's house-the doorways, the ruined walls of Cloud's room-though it wouldn't do any good. They'd already been examined ad nauseum and there was nothing new to learn. ''Darcy,'' Loki began, noticing the look of concentration that she'd forced onto her face. ''I think that we should-'' Just then, her cell phone rang. She practically lunged across the table for it.

''Sorry to call so late, I'm not bothering you, am I?'' asked Natasha on the other end.

''No, no, not at all,'' Darcy said gratefully. ''What's up?''

''You said those things, those humanoids in the Palace, they were called the Anunnaki? Are you sure?'' asked the assassin.

Making a face, Darcy replied, ''I'm very sure, yes. I'm not going to be able to forget them anytime soon. Why?''

''I did some research—the Anunnaki were supposedly a group of ancient Mesopotamian gods,'' came the reply. ''There's different references to them...in the epic of Gilgamesh and also in something called the 'Enuma Elish', which is a Babylonian myth of creation.''

Darcy's mouth dipped into a frown at this. ''Well...they definitely weren't _human_, I'm sure of that. I don't know that I'd call them gods, though...they were more like worker bees.''

''I'm going to keep looking into it, I just thought that you might like to know,'' Natasha said.

''Thanks for telling me. I'll see you tomorrow.'' Darcy hung up the phone with a sigh, pondering what the Black Widow had just told her. ''Who'd have thought that ancient Mesopotamia would be making such a comeback,'' she mumbled with a shake of her head. Then she turned to see that Loki was no longer there.

A few seconds later there came a weird banging sound from the other room. Curious, she got up and pushed open the door to the bedroom. Loki stood with his back to her, in his hand he held a small dagger. He raised his arm and threw it, the blade flew sharply across the room and then stuck in the wall. With a wave of his fingers it vanished from where it had been imbedded in the plaster and returned to his hand. Then he threw it again.

''Baby, why are you throwing knives at the wall?'' she asked wearily.

''I'll fix it later,'' came his reply. He didn't turn around.

''That's not what I asked,'' Darcy mumbled, then turned and went back into the other room to sit down on the couch. A few minutes later the banging stopped and Loki appeared in the doorway, then walked over and sat beside her. There was a very tense look on his face.

''I need you to talk to me,'' he said, attempting to keep his voice even. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. His heart felt like it was tearing in half, as easily as a scrap of paper. Loki wanted to scream, but he reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. ''Are you...I mean, do you...do you want this?'' he asked. His voice sounded strangled.

''What?'' Darcy cried. ''Yes, of course I do! I just...this was...why _now_?'' she demanded angrily, no longer able to hold back the flood of emotion that she'd been trying to stifle all day. ''It's almost cruel.'' She wrapped her arms around herself protectively as she spoke. ''The world is being overrun by dark forces, a demonic, body-hopping madman wants to cut my fingers off and make me his brainless love slave...and the crazy part is, we probably could have dealt with all of that just fine. But now...now its different.'' Resting her head in her hands, Darcy stayed liked that for a moment and then turned her face up and looked deeply into Loki's eyes. ''The problem is that for a second when Bruce told me, I was so _happy,''_ she confessed.''For that _one_ split second, it was good, and then...then reality just came crashing down and I realized that now there are so many more reasons to be afraid.''

Loki reached over and ran his fingertips gently along her face, brushing the tears away from her eyes. Then, silently, he brought his mouth down against Darcy's and kissed her, the kiss deep and sensual and hungry as he smoothed his hands over her shoulders, drawing her even closer against him.

''I'm _so_ _scared_,'' she finally admitted in a hushed whisper.

''Me too,'' he replied.

They didn't speak for a bit, just held each other quietly. ''When do you think it happened?'' she asked, laying a hand on her stomach, feeling calmer. ''Which time?''

''I think it was the second time, for some reason,'' Loki thoughtfully replied. ''I was terrified once I saw that I'd shifted form, it was like the first time it ever happened. That second of absolute horror when I realised that I was a monster. And I was absolutely certain that you were going to run, that you would never want to be near me again and I would be on my own in that place forever, with an empty mind. But you didn't run. You just...held me there, took me even deeper. You accepted me the way that you always do, you manage to love me when I am the most unloveable.''

''Thank you for finding me,'' whispered Darcy. ''I never could have made it alone.''

''Me either,'' he replied, brushing a kiss against her forehead.

''We can do this,'' Loki told her, trying to reassure himself as well. ''It's going to be difficult and frightening, but that's alright. We have to feel that fear, really feel it, and let it make us more powerful than we've ever been. We're going to need to be strong, to protect her.''

''Her?'' Darcy asked, letting a very light smile cross her face, like the sun daring to venture out from behind a cloud. Loki shrugged. ''I told you once, I always thought that we'd have a daughter someday. I just didn't think that day would arrive so soon.''

''Alright, let's make a bet. If it is a girl, you get first pick of the name, _but_ I have to approve. Ok?'' Now she was fully smiling. The clouds were still there, but they were never going away. The sun would have to simply shine around them.

He nodded. ''And if it's a boy, which it won't be, then you get to pick.''

''You seem so confident.''

''I am.''

They fell asleep soon after that, Darcy realised that she was exhausted once again, even after being passed out for several hours. She dreamed of the fog of souls, of falling. But she didn't fall abruptly, the way she actually had, tumbling down through a storm of light and noise-she fell very slowly and softly, almost as if she were a snowflake drifting down to earth. When she woke, Darcy was slightly nauseas, she had no idea if it was morning sickness or a result of the dream. She got out of bed and put on a robe, then headed into the kitchen. That was where Loki found her, standing in front of the counter, frowning at the coffee machine. ''What is it?'' he asked her, almost amused. ''I don't know if I'm supposed to have coffee or not,'' she told him. ''And it's bothering me. I don't know where I'm going to get all my information from-it's not like there's a _What to Expect When You're Expecting _for...you know, whatever we are.'' Her frown deepened. ''And what the hell am I supposed to tell my OBGYN? Is this going to be a...normal pregnancy? I mean, it's already started off weird.'' The questions fatigued her.

''Well, I honestly think that we should go to Asgard as soon as possible. I want Eir to examine you, she should be able to ease some of your worries. I don't think that this is a situation where we can rely on Midgardian doctors.''

''Yeah, you're right,'' admitted Darcy. ''But we can't go just yet-not with everything that's happening. We have to be here to help.''

Shaking his head, Loki said ''You have to accept the fact that there is only so much that we can do. Yes, we do have that spell that we found in Paris, but there's something about it that seems too good to be true. We don't really know anything about it-who created it, where it came from. We also don't know _exactly_ what it says. I know that you have a strange...spontaneous ability to absorb languages but we have to be absolutely certain that we fully understand the contents of a spell of this magnitude. We're dealing with a language that doesn't seem to be from Midgard or any other known world. You need to be sure that you know what you're actually saying. Or you might wind up being very sorry.''

* * *

><p>''I want to take a look at this so-called reversal spell,'' Natasha told Darcy and Loki when they returned to SHIELD a few hours later. The Black Widow looked very, very tired; she hadn't been getting much sleep lately and it was starting to catch up with her. ''I need you to retrieve it from wherever you've got it hidden and bring it here. Lately I've become rather wary of archaic writing, before you both go chanting anything I need to be sure that this is even an option.''<p>

Loki's eyes met Darcy's and then he turned back to Natasha. ''We were just discussing the same thing this morning, actually,'' Loki said. ''What might some of our other options _be_, by the way?''

''Well, that's what we're all trying to figure out, Loki,'' she said flatly. ''Right now, our main priority is containment. This...possession virus is spreading very quickly. And from what we can see, once it is in its final phases the infected become extraordinarily strong and potentially aggressive. We're going to have to try to figure out a way to keep them safely quarantined. We're also going to have to come up with some kind of official cover story-people are already obviously aware that there's something _highly_ unusual going on, and they're panicking accordingly.''

''What can we do to help?'' asked Darcy. Natasha's looked from one of them to the other. ''First, like I said, get me the spell. We can show it to Heid and the others, maybe they'll have some input. And then...honestly Darcy, I know that you don't want to hear this, but I'm going to be pulling you both from active duty.'' Darcy let out a sharp sound of protest and Natasha held up her hand. ''I don't care. Sorry, but you've been compromised-physically and emotionally. Trust me, you both need to focus on each other now. You've done enough for SHIELD.''

It was music to Loki's ears, another faint light amid their darkening world. Darcy seemed to still want to argue, but then she relented with a sigh, realising that Natasha was correct. ''Understood,'' she said softly. Loki got to his feet, trying to hide his smile. ''Alright, well, I'll just go and fetch that spell for you then.''

He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to locate the dimensional pocket in which he'd hidden the pages. He found it, but it seemed different then before, weak and almost faintly shredded at the edges. Something had been digging there, trying to get inside. Loki was suddenly struck with a very heavy, worried feeling. As the pages started to materialize, his fears were confirmed.

''They're blank,'' he said, holding them up for Darcy and Natasha to see. A cold, panicked chill swept over Darcy. ''_What_? How?''

The god shook his head, set the odd parchment down on the desk. All of the writing had completely vanished off of the paper. For a moment Loki heard Cloud's voice echoing in his mind. _The words. The words are all gone._

''Well, I guess now we have one less option,'' said Natasha blankly.

''There has to be a way to get them back,'' protested Darcy.

''Back from _where_?'' Loki demanded. ''We don't know what happened here, or who is behind it.'' The god didn't want to admit it, but he was strangely relieved to see that this particular option no longer existed. It seemed like too great a risk, one that he wasn't sure he'd be willing to take, not even with this world hanging in the balance. Now, there was really no reason whatsoever for them to stay. The sooner that they left, the better. Seeing the changes that were taking place on Midgard was making Loki jumpy and unsettled. He cast another glance down at the pages laying uselessly on the desk and then raised his head to meet the Black Widow's weary eyes. ''I'm sorry,'' he told her again, astonished that he almost truly meant it.

''You must be getting soft,'' she said, as the ghost of a smile flittered over her face and then disappeared. ''It's ok. Go. I'll be in contact with you if there's any updates.'' Darcy felt almost numb as she got up from the chair and walked out of the office. Once they were out in the hallway she grabbed Loki by the arm, insisting, ''We can't leave yet!'' Yet even as she was saying the words Darcy knew that they had to go. She just couldn't bring herself to admit it, because in some way that would be admitting defeat. The frustration of it all was crushing. The look in Loki's eyes indicated that he was quite serious. ''There's more than just this world at stake here. And you know that now we have to be selfish, for the sake of our child.''

Darcy unconsciously started to bite her fingernails.''Where do we go?'' she asked.

''Asgard,'' he replied, reaching over and gently pulling her hand away from her mouth, squeezing her fingers in his. ''Jane is already there, I've been told. They also might have some information that can help. We'll be able to watch what's going on from a safer distance. And we have to make sure that you are healthy and protected. We _cannot_ stay on Midgard,'' he reiterated firmly.

''Alright,'' she finally agreed, trying to push away the sadness that was now weighing her down. Darcy couldn't help but still feel as though they'd failed somehow, and were now running away. She knew that deep inside one of the main reasons that she was so resistant was because if she could help to end all of this horror, to defeat it, only then could she finally breath easy and be fully happy about their future baby. Even on Asgard the threat would still exist, and it might only be a matter of time before the Reckoner managed to find her. The darkness would continue to rise, rise up and pursue them, close at their heels until there were no longer any worlds to hide on. _'I will stop the tall man, and I will stop all the monsters.'_ Darcy remembered her promise to Anna-Lily. She made the vow again in her mind, but this time, she was promising her own child.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hi my ****loves! Thank you for all of your feedback! I have the next chapter for you. This story, I have realised along the way, is going to be incredibly long, longer than Good Neighbors. So, I have a question for all of you, my readers, since you have been wonderful enough to stick with me: do you think that I should turn it into a trilogy? Or would you rather I not interrupt the flow of this one? Please let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p><em>And if the dam breaks open many years too soon<em>

_And if there is no room upon the hill_

_And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too_

_I'll see you on the dark side of the moon_

**-Pink Floyd**

Darcy was still mildly hesitant about their leaving for Asgard, although now it was mostly because Loki had told her that Jane was already there. She hadn't seen the scientist since taking her place in the Palace of Souls, and she didn't know what her emotional state was going to be like. And now, of course, there was the other thing: Jane had confessed to wanting a baby very badly. She was already apparently jealous of Darcy, and this would just give her one more reason.

''She's really gonna hate me forever now,'' Darcy thought glumly to herself as she threw together a few things to take with her. She didn't know how long they were going to be gone—Loki had been a little vague about that—but if she was going to be pregnant on a strange world for any length of time then at least she was going to be as comfortable as possible.

Tossing her iPod into the bag, she then went over to the bookshelf. ''Hmm,'' she thought, inspecting the titles. This would probably be a good opportunity to finish any books that had been started but abandoned, Darcy realized. She pulled out her copy of _The Mists of Avalon_, which she'd been trying to work her way through for about five years. Noting the bookmark tucked inside, she still had a _long_ way to go. After adding the immense novel to her quickly growing collection of things to bring, Darcy headed into the kitchen and went straight for the small cabinet where her beloved stash of junk food was stored. ''I _know_ they don't have Cheetos on Asgard,'' she mumbled with some resignation, and pulled out a bag of the bright orange snacks.

Then there came a loud knock on the door. ''Hey, can you get that?'' she called to Loki. Hearing the door open, a few seconds later Darcy grinned when Thor's deep and unmistakeable voice reverberated through the apartment. Wandering out of the kitchen, she saw that now the two Asgardians were standing off to a corner of the living room, and she could only guess what was being discussed because after a moment a wide smile lit up the blond's face and he reached over and grabbed a very startled-looking Loki, pulling him close in an enormous hug and then releasing him. Then once the god of thunder spotted Darcy he walked over and scooped her up in an embrace as well. ''Congratulations!'' he boomed brightly, seeming genuinely elated for the both of them.

''Thank you,'' replied Darcy sincerely, happy to see him again. The huge deity always seemed to bring a feeling of strong warmth wherever he went, and it cheered her heart to have him around.

''It's always nice to hear good news in dark times,'' Thor remarked in a thoughtful voice, the smile beginning to fade from his face. ''Are you coming back to Asgard with us?'' asked Darcy. He shook his head in reply. ''Not yet. The Allfather has requested that I remain here, at least temporarily, to give aid to the others.''

''Does Odin have any sort of idea about how to reverse this situation?'' Loki asked, though he didn't really expect an affirmative answer. Even if Odin knew, he wouldn't reveal that information to anyone until he was good and ready. Power-trips were one of the Perks of Being the Allfather.

As expected, Thor gave another shake of his head. ''He said that any action on his part would be premature.''

''Of course he did,'' Loki replied dryly. Then added almost to himself, ''I dread having to see him again.''

''Loki...'' Thor was now using the sort of tone one would take with a small child. ''I thought that you were at least getting along _somewhat _amicably after your last visit.''

''Him telling me that my punishment was over and saying essentially nothing else is perhaps as amicable as we may ever get with each other,'' Loki retorted stubbornly. Darcy watched as something changed just a little in his eyes, icing itself over, the colour less green now, more of a frigid blue. His demeanour became colder, guarded at the mention of his adoptive parent.

''You've had your differences, that is true,'' Thor allowed, ''but perhaps now that you're going to be a father yourself-''

Loki let out a rough, mean laugh that felt like fingernails along Darcy's spine. ''I sincerely doubt that my impending fatherhood will soften his heart to me or mine to him.''

Thor frowned and opened his mouth to say something else but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he looked over at Darcy and asked, ''How are you feeling? I know that you've been through a bit of an ordeal—Jane has been very, very worried about you, as have I.''

Wincing inwardly at the mention of her friend, Darcy replied ''I'm...fine, actually. Just...still processing some things.''

He nodded understandingly. ''Well, hopefully once you arrive on Asgard your mind can be more at ease. I don't like the feel of Midgard now,'' he added, making a face as if he'd tasted something sour.

''Have you ever seen anything like what's happening here before?'' asked Darcy, her voice hopeful. ''On any other world?''

Thor gave yet another solemn shake of his blond head. ''No, never exactly like this. I've seen spells worked that can radically alter a person's temperament, make them behave in ways that they wouldn't ordinarily, or perform certain uncharacteristic feats, but nothing like what I've been told is occurring here.''

Darcy sighed. She'd expected as much. Loki turned to her. ''Go and finish collecting your things. We'll be leaving shortly.''

''You mean like—today?'' she asked with raised eyebrows.

''Yes, _today_,'' he replied firmly.

Her stomach turned over a little bit at this—she knew that they were leaving _soon_, but she'd hoped that soon meant a few days rather than a few hours. Still, Thor was right—Earth was growing eerie and unsettling and there was no use in staying and watching it continue to decay, knowing that nothing could be done. Darcy resolutely set to packing the remainder of her things, then felt a creeping flood of sadness when she realized that many of her favourite belongings were still in Paris, out of reach. She wondered how long they would remain there, gathering dust, before she returned to claim them. Part of her wondered if she ever _would_ return, in her mind's eye an unbidden vision came crawling like vines and she saw years passing by, sealing everything off, entombing all the memories and ghosts. A tear threatened to fall but Darcy shook it away and redirected her thoughts to focus on the mundane tasks that needed to be performed. Out the window, she could hear the urgent screaming of a siren from the street below. This had been growing steadily more frequent, noises of chaos were escalating, becoming the new music of the city.

''Ready?'' Loki asked her softly from where he stood, halfway to the door. He was always halfway to the door, it seemed, and ready to run. His impatience made her feel like she was being silly and overly sentimental in her dawdling. Darcy shook her head. ''No. There's just...one more thing.'' She walked over to the window, the infamous window that was still free of curtains. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a picture of it. Loki's eyes followed her motions, and he felt a weird pang in his chest at the sight. ''What are you doing?''

''I don't know if we'll ever get back here,'' she replied honestly, though it pained her to say the words. ''And if we don't I...I don't want to ever forget exactly what this...stupid window looks like because...because it's where we met.'' Tears started to roll down her cheeks and she wiped them away with her sleeve. ''And then if like someday the kid asks, 'Hey Mom, how did you and Dad meet?' I can pull up this picture and then tell her the G-rated version of the story.''

Loki realised that he didn't want to forget either. It was one of the reasons that he'd sketched that particular window so very many times. He smiled at Darcy, the look was gentle and full of shadows, like the beginning of autumn. Crossing the room in a few long strides, he wrapped his arms around her. They stood there like that for several moments, just staring out the window. The other apartment across the way was still empty and dark and quiet. This was comforting to Darcy for some reason, it seemed as though that was the way it should remain, with nobody else living in it ever again. ''Take as many pictures as you want,'' he whispered.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, the first thing that Darcy did after arriving on Asgard was vomit. The travel method was so much more jarring than she remembered it being, and it played havoc with her insides. Embarrassed and tired, she didn't really want to do much after that, and quickly retreated to the room where they were staying—Loki's old room, where they'd spent a good deal of time during their last visit. Seeing everyone could wait until the next way, Darcy figured, when she wasn't so pale and shivery. She flopped down onto the soft bed and groaned, burying her face in a pillow. ''You're alright,'' Loki told her. She lifted her head and looked at him. ''I feel bleh.''<p>

The god couldn't help but smile gently at her, she looked so pitiful and disheveled. He handed her a small cup. ''Drink this. Eir said it will help.'' Pushing her sweat-matted hair off of her face, she gratefully accepted the drink, which was warm and had a faint spearmint smell. Once she'd finished it, Darcy found that she felt better almost immediately. ''I told her about our...situation,'' he said. ''And she wants to see you as soon as possible, just to make sure that everything's fine.''

''Alright. I'll go and see her tomorrow,'' replied Darcy, slowly getting up off of the bed. She stretched and sighed, then started to unpack her belongings. Then she turned at a sudden sound to see Loki shaking the duffel bag.

''What's crunching around in here?'' he asked, looking perplexed. Darcy nearly dropped the book she was holding. ''Don't smush my Cheetos!'' she yelled. Startled, Loki gingerly set the bag down on the bed and stepped away, holding up his hands. ''Is that the orange nonsense that you eat when you're having a bad day?'' he asked, making a face.

''Yes! And it's my only bag of them. I want them _intact_!'' she wailed emphatically.

''I see, I see. Alright,'' he attempted to soothe her. He very gently removed them from the bag and handed them to her. ''They're unharmed.''

''Thank god,'' she said with a sigh, looking around for a safe place to hide her precious snacks.

Darcy hadn't been in that particular room in a long time, not since the last apocalypse. It was a very large, spacious room with high ceilings and many tall bookcases packed with volume after ancient volume of arcane knowledge. The décor naturally featured a lot of black and gold and green, and the space had an elegant and surprising warmth to it, along with a certain heady mystical quality. Candles burned in holders along the wall and sent friendly shadows dancing everywhere. The air smelled faintly of smoke and cedar and something else that Darcy couldn't place, a strange dark and beautiful scent that seemed to be unique to Loki. With a handful of clothes, she walked over to the huge chest of drawers in one corner of the room. When she pulled the first drawer open, Darcy's eyes caught on a familiar soft grey fabric resting inside. Reaching in, she pulled out her old Led Zeppelin t-shirt, the one that she'd brought with her during her last visit. She thought that it had been lost, had nearly forgotten all about it. Loki glanced over and noticed what she was now holding. His face was overtaken by an almost shy expression. ''You kept this?'' she asked him, turning to meet his eyes. He gave a slow nod but didn't say anything. In her mind Darcy had a sudden flash of memory, him helping to pull the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor. Her skin heated.

''You were so...careful that night,'' she remembered softly, running her fingers over the fabric. Though they'd had so many others, that one first night was going to be bright in her memory for a very long time.

He mumbled something that she couldn't quite catch. ''What was that?'' Darcy asked, amused at how uncomfortable he suddenly seemed.

Loki cleared his throat. ''I didn't want to hurt you,'' he said more clearly, meeting her eyes. ''I was...I wanted you very badly. I could feel you inside my mind, I could hear your heart beating all the time, it was so intoxicating. I was dying to feel all of you at the same time. But you were still human then, and fragile, in a sense. I thought that it would be best if I took things rather slowly at first. I needed to learn you properly.'' He gave her a small smile.

''What did you learn?'' Darcy set the shirt down in a neat pile with her other clothes. He moved a little closer as he replied. ''I learned what you feel like, what you taste like. The sounds that you make. I learned something about _wanting_.'' Now he was right in front of her, less than a breath away. Loki reached up and ran his fingertips along her face, slowly tracing downward to the soft skin of her throat, where he could feel the throb of her pulse. ''I'm talking about real, raw desire-the kind that gets into every cell of your body. I used to think it was a more abstract concept. The things that I thought I wanted the most-they were _ideas_. The idea of them was nice, at least for me. But you can't ever truly want something in the purest, most terrible way until you _know_ it, until you've touched it and breathed it. Until you understand what it is and what it means, and only then can you be willing to risk everything for it. Everyone thinks that they want something. Few people actually do.''

* * *

><p>A short time later Darcy succumbed to the exhaustion from their journey once again and fell asleep in Loki's arms. She quickly slipped under into a dream; dreams seemed to come rushing more abruptly and clearly when she was on Asgard. Finding herself wandering underneath a dark, overcast sky in an area that she didn't recognise, Darcy continued along a winding path that seemed to stretch out ahead as far as she could see. All of her surroundings were very morose—craggy tree branches like skeletal fingers reaching out, only a few patches of sad grass punctuated with jagged rocks. There didn't seem to be anyone else there. The chilly damp air made goosebumps rise on her skin. She started to shiver. Another lone, large tree loomed up ahead, an ancient-looking yew, its trunk massive in circumference. There was a carving in it, Darcy noticed, creeping closer to get a better look. It said something, in those alien letters that had been taunting her for weeks. She could read what it said now, the deep etching that had been purposefully gouged there: <em>We were the first and we were alone.<em> Though she didn't know how to take that statement exactly, it didn't strike her as ominous, just...sad. There was a tremendous feeling of loneliness hanging in the atmosphere like a heavy dark curtain. It made her want to scream, scream out into the empty world around her just to hear an echo.

Then she woke. It took Darcy a moment to remember where she was. She'd been waking up in so many different places recently that there needed to be a few moments of recalling and adjusting whenever she opened her eyes now. Peering around, she saw the very elegant furnishings in Loki's bedroom on Asgard. Loki had been sitting over by the window, sketching something in one of his books. When he heard her begin to stir he got up and went over to Darcy, sitting down beside her on the bed. ''How are you?'' he asked.

''Damn _trees_, man,'' she replied, shaking her head. He looked down at her with a curious expression. ''I beg your pardon?''

''Trees. I had another dream about one. I think it was a yew tree, and I have abso-fucking-lutely no idea how or why I think that because I don't know what a yew tree looks like, but yeah. And there was a carving in it, there was writing. It said 'we were the first, and we were alone.' '' She looked up at Loki, who shrugged. ''Well, it's worth remembering, but not thinking too deeply about,'' came his light response. ''It could be nothing, just your tired mind trying to process everything.'' Darcy screwed up her face at him, knowing that he didn't believe a word of what he had just said. She remembered how he'd once told her about dreams, that they were a place, a port that carried you somewhere else. And he'd also told her that there was always something on the other side listening.

''You don't need to worry about upsetting me,'' she told him. ''I'm far less fragile than I look, remember?''

''That has nothing to do with it,'' he said dismissively. ''I don't want to upset you because...well, because I just don't like to see you upset. Especially now. There's so much going on already, I don't want you to have extra unnecessary worries.''

Darcy had to smile at his attempts to protect her, even if they weren't going to work. It made her feel warm inside. ''That's sweet,'' she told him sincerely. ''But it's way too late. I already have a thousand things to worry about, what's one more?''

**SHIELD**

The atmosphere in SHIELD had grown rather tense and grim, echoing the previous year. A strange crew now worked tirelessly to gain some sort of footing amid the chaos that was slowly wrapping its hands around the throat of the world: Prudence, Selene and Heid were now helping with some of the research that the Black Widow had requested-she couldn't do it all herself, and Andrews certainly couldn't be of any assistance now. And while Tony Stark had seemingly vanished for a bit, Nick Fury had made a sudden abrupt reappearance and was speaking to Banner and Natasha about the events that were transpiring.

''Well, the 'government' has now officially stepped in. They're trying to keep everything under wraps to avoid a public panic, but you know how well that works,'' Bruce told Fury wearily, running a hand through his hair. ''And the infected are becoming volatile, less easy to contain. The national guard has been given permission to use deadly force if necessary. There's nothing we can do about that, it was an executive order.''

''I'm aware, and its not going to do any good,'' the Director replied. ''These things are strong. You can't just put them down.''

''They're not things!'' snapped Natasha suddenly, rounding on him. ''They're _people_!''

''Not anymore.'' Fury said, and walked away without another word. ''But...'' Bruce started as he frowned after Fury's retreating form, then seemed to feel that there was no point in arguing, and gritted his teeth and headed away in the opposite direction down the hall in search of Stark.

A terrible suspicion was being confirmed for the Black Widow, who turned and followed after the Director.''You _knew_,'' she said, eyes blazing as she accosted him. The assassin was nearly trembling with outraged disbelief, she felt as if there were fire crawling beneath her skin. ''You're letting this happen. You've known since the beginning. And now you're going to look the other way while the whole world burns down.''

In response, Fury grabbed Natasha by the arm and firmly led her into the stairwell where the two could speak out of earshot. He glared at her silently for a moment and then his shoulders slumped a little as some spark went out of his eyes. ''This wasn't my call,'' he admitted tiredly, his voice laden with deep regret. ''It was decided a long time ago. We have to give this world back to them.''

''What the hell are you saying? How can you_ possibly_ think like this? And _who are they_?'' Natasha knew that she needed to get a hold of herself, she was now practically screaming into the Director's face.

''They are so much stronger than you or I, or any of us,'' replied Fury. ''This is not a fight that we have any chance of winning. Whether we want to believe it or not, our species as we know it has an expiration date. It always did. I just never thought it would be under my watch.'' The Director suddenly didn't look fierce or intimidating any longer—he looked like a weary old man. Allowing a small sigh to escape his lips, Fury then continued ''Just as there comes an inevitable moment in childhood when we must learn about death and accept that it will one day happen to us, I was warned when I accepted this position that this day would arrive. They called it The Flood. I used to think it was a myth, of course, hundreds of years in the future. I assumed that my life would be over long before we'd have to face it, like when they warn about the sun burning itself out.''

''The flood?'' Natasha echoed faintly. ''I don't understand...''

''Most early Mesopotamian cultures spoke of an enormous deluge that swept over the world, washing nearly everything away. The first small apocalypse after the ascent of man.'' He shrugged. ''It was just a symbolic code name chosen for this time, it has nothing to do with an actual flood of water.''

Her mind reeled as she tried to process these new horrific revelations. ''Yes, but weren't a few chosen people always saved in those stories?'' she argued uselessly, wondering why in the hell she was even still talking to him. The assassin had known Nick Fury for many years. And there had once been a time when she thought that she had respected him, or at least respected his ability to be a leader, to do his job. But now she didn't know what to believe. She simply couldn't conceive of the notion that he would simply roll over without a fight and let everything fall to pieces, she'd never known him to be that fatalistic. But then again she'd been doubting a lot of things recently, and it made her wonder how well she really knew anyone. Or how well she really knew herself.

''The chosen _are_ being saved, Natasha,'' Fury replied sadly. ''We just don't see it that way.''

Leaving the Director standing in the stairwell, the Black Widow stormed purposefully away and into the room where nearly everyone was now gathered. ''We're moving,'' she announced to all of them. The assassin was then met with a loud chorus of ''_What_?''

''We're leaving the country,'' she said loudly enough to be heard over the noise of confusion that had erupted after her declaration. ''I'll explain later.''

''Who's leaving?'' asked Prudence, seeming more confused than ever.

''All of us. Everyone in this room. And Andrews.''

Bruce paled ever so slightly at this. ''Natasha, I _really_ don't...'' he began.

''_All_ of us,'' she repeated, her voice hard and glacial. ''We're going back to Norway. There's an abandoned outpost not too far from where Heid lives. It's still functional, and more than large enough for us all to stay safely. There are labs where we can work. Anyone who doesn't want to come can leave right now. And I suggest that you try to get as far away from here as possible because things are going to shit very fast and nobody is going to help you when they do.''

Bruce now pulled the redhead out into the hallway to try to reason with her. ''It's going to be incredibly dangerous to move Andrews anywhere,'' he explained quietly. ''Natasha—his infection is progressing rapidly. Soon he won't be himself anymore, and we might not be able to control him or hold him.''

''I can,'' she said plainly, meeting his eyes in a dead stare that almost made the scientist shiver. ''Let it get a hold of him. I want to have a chat with whatever he becomes.''

His eyebrows shot up at this. ''You want to interrogate a _demon_?''

''We don't know that it's a demon. And I've interrogated a god before. This should be easy.'' She said nothing for a moment, then asked Bruce, ''You guys are with me on this, right?''

''I don't think we have another choice,'' he admitted with a resigned nod.

Natasha went back into the room to speak to Heid about something. Alone now in the corridor, Bruce took off his glasses and cleaned with them with his shirt, blinking his tired eyes. Blearily, he spotted a familiar figure moving towards him. As he slipped them back on, Stark came into full view. The inventor's brow was knotted and he was slightly pale. He had the look of a man who'd accidentally stared into the abyss and would do anything to forget what he'd seen there. ''What is it?'' asked Banner. ''And where the hell have you _been_, anyway?''

''I found some encrypted files hidden inside a secure database,'' replied Stark. ''They took forever to crack into, someone really wanted this stuff to stay buried.''

''What's in the files?'' Bruce was frowning now. He'd rarely ever seen the billionaire so grim-looking and it worried him more than a little. He was also willing to bet anything that what Stark had found was the reason for Natasha's sudden urgent desire to go AWOL.

Tony's usually warm brown eyes were murky with tension as he began. ''They talk about something called 'The Flood.' It's an end-of-day scenario, and now it's apparently playing itself out. They _knew. _SHIELD, Fury, Fury's boss—whoever the hell that is-they've known about this since before World War Two.''

''Bull_shit,_'' was the scientist's eloquent reply. But his voice shook a little and he had to admit to himself that certain pieces were now crashing unhappily into place. ''Then why even bother? If they always knew that this was going to happen, why go to all the trouble to protect and defend the Earth? What was even the point of SHIELD, if they were all just gonna roll over without a fight at the end?''

Stark considered this. ''I think...I think that there may have been a time when they thought that they could stop it, that they could build a superhuman army with weapons big enough to fight them off but...''

''But what?''

''They didn't understand,'' Tony said, his voice thoughtful. ''They just didn't get that these things...they're part of us.''

''They're not part of _me_,'' the scientist replied savagely, his voice filled with rancour as he thought about Andrews and all the other victims that he'd seen, with their haunted eyes and mouths dripping with black tar.

''I meant us as in the larger, general _us._ The human race,'' clarified Tony, sweeping his hand around to illustrate the point. ''They've been here before, obviously. Maybe some of them never even really left, maybe they just...''

''Vanished into the mists?'' Bruce supplied in a tone that was half-joking, half poetic.

''In a manner of speaking, yes. And now the mists are parting.''


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey again my loves! There isn't a tremendous amount of action in this chapter, but that's ok, because there will be plenty coming up soon! I am so glad that you are all liking this story! I took into account all of the feedback that you all gave me and I decided to just keep this story going as it is, rather than breaking it up. As always, please let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p>Darcy was still tired from her 'interdimensional jet-lag' and the residual scattered strangeness from her dream, but she decided that lying in Loki's bed all day, as tempting a thought as that was, was impractical. She had way too much to do. First, she had her appointment with Eir, which was nerve-wracking enough to contemplate, but then she was also going to have to speak to Jane at some point. Also, she wanted to see if maybe she could find a library of some sort where she could do research. Possibly, tucked away in some old dusty tome was a clue or insight as to how to stop the menace spreading on Earth. It was a long shot, Darcy knew, but she had to try all the same.<p>

Loki was already out of bed, he had been for some time. Darcy noticed that he didn't look happy, he was beginning to seem quite tense, she could see it in his face, in his movements—everything was sharper and colder.

''What are you going to do today?'' Darcy asked, propping her head up on her hand. His lips set in a thin line and his eyes darkened over. ''Unfortunately, my presence has been requested by the Allfather in several different meetings today,'' he answered. ''I suppose that he figures as long as I'm back he might as well take the opportunity to torture me with endless politics.''

Darcy looked up at him. ''Maybe he thinks that your opinions are valuable,'' she offered.

Loki let out a cough of unsettling laughter. ''He thinks no such thing. He's baiting me, he wants me to voice my opinion so that he can slam it down in front of everyone. It's just another one of his punishments, only more subtle.'' He sighed and looked back at her, calming a little as he stared into her blue eyes. ''I wanted to be with you today,'' he added softly, voice dusted with regret.

''Hey, don't worry, I'll be fine,'' Darcy reassured him. ''I'm going to go to the Healing Chambers and see Eir and make sure everything's kosher and then I'll just...explore, I guess.'' She pulled herself to a sitting position, stretched.

''Alright, just don't get lost,'' Loki told her, forcing a slight smile. ''I'll come and see you as soon as I have a minute.''

* * *

><p>One of the things that Darcy distinctly noticed about Asgard was that everyone that she passed suddenly seemed to know her. Walking down the palace hallway, she moved by a young woman who was cleaning the windows. When she saw Darcy, the woman almost nervously straightened up and gave a weird sort of curtsy, then looked away. The Healing Chambers were in an entirely separate wing of the palace from where her room was, and it was a bit of a walk. She passed by two more people, an elegantly dressed, stiff-backed man and woman who looked like dignitaries of some sort. They took notice of her and inclined their heads in a swift bow, murmuring, ''My Lady,'' as she walked by. While it was nice to be bowed to for about five seconds, it was also vaguely creepy. Nobody on Asgard had ever exactly treated her normally, but Darcy supposed that to them, she was a bit <em>unusual.<em>

Darcy chewed her fingernails nervously at the thought of seeing Jane again as she sat and waited outside of the doors of the Healing Chambers, wishing like hell that there was a back issue of _Cosmo _to read. In a way, she was almost grateful to have their impending reunion to worry about, because it distracted her slightly from her anxiety about this appointment. Her heart fluttered nervously like a leaf caught in the air. What if something was wrong? There was a very distinct possibility creeping in her mind: it might not be a normal pregnancy. This baby had been conceived in a very strange quantum space, where the ordinary laws of physics failed to apply. And that thought and its ramifications haunted her mind.

Looking up as the door opened, Darcy saw the tall, blonde healer smile at her and motion her forward. She drew in a deep breath and then walked over and stepped inside the room. As before, she found that it had a very pleasant, soothing atmosphere, but that still wasn't helping to calm her nerves.

''It's good to see you again, my Lady,'' Eir said, seeming genuinely happy. ''I'd heard all kinds of strange tales regarding your whereabouts—I'm so glad that you both are back safe.''

Darcy nodded. ''Thanks. I'm ah, glad to be back too.'' Everything was silent for a moment. Then she began awkwardly, ''Loki said that he told you about-''

''Yes, he did,'' Eir finished. She gave Darcy a long, soft look, studying her. ''Well, lets just see what's happening, shall we?'' The healer motioned for her to lay down on the long examination table. Not knowing what to expect, Darcy just lay there and looked up at the intricate ceiling, trying to take deep breaths. ''No need to be nervous,'' said Eir in her calm voice as she moved around the room, looking for something. Then she found it and came back over. It was a long, rectangular device of some sort that she waved over Darcy's lower body. Trails of light followed her motions, making patterns in the air before dissipating. The healer took note of these patterns, and nodded. Her hands came down against Darcy's abdomen, feeling around gently. She nodded again. ''Alright, you can sit up now,'' she said brightly. Darcy, who had been forcing herself to zone out, blinked in surprise. She pulled herself to a sitting position on the table. ''That's it?'' she asked in disbelief.

''Yes,'' replied Eir. ''Why do you look so shocked?''

''Don't you have to like...'' She made motions to try to imply a gynecological exam and the healer simply looked at her strangely. ''Have to like...poke around inside...''

Now Eir looked halfway between amused and ill. ''I certainly _don't_,'' she answered evenly. ''The tools I use are more than adequate for seeing what's going on inside of you.''

''And?'' she asked, bracing herself.

''You needn't look so worried,'' the healer said. ''Everything is fine.''

''Really?'' cried Darcy. Dizzying relief washed over her.

''Really. You are approximately six weeks pregnant, and in quite good health.''

''That's so weird to me.'' Darcy now held up her hand and counted on her fingers.

''What are you trying to figure out?'' Eir asked, a curious smile on her face. ''I'm trying to figure out the last time I had my period, and it was most definitely less than six weeks ago,'' replied Darcy with a frown. ''It was like _two_ weeks ago. I'm trying to wrap my mind around this. I get sucked into the Palace of Souls for three days, _three_ freakin days, and then when I come out I'm six weeks pregnant.''

''I know that your pregnancy had a very unusual start, but please trust me, everything is going to be fine. It should progress at a normal rate,'' Eir told her firmly. ''Nothing bizarre or mysterious is going to happen. You'll probably be more tired than usual, and you may feel sick to your stomach. It will pass.'' She reached up to one of the shelves and pulled down a small blue glass bottle. ''Put two drops of this under your tongue and it should ease any discomfort. I want to see you again in a few weeks.''

As she gratefully accepted the bottle from her and got up to leave, Darcy hesitated for a moment.''Just one more thing.'' Eir waited with a raised eyebrow, motioning for her to continue. ''Why is everyone all like...weirdly respectful and calling me 'Lady' and stuff?'' she asked.

The healer looked amused by the question, but she gently answered, ''Well, as far as everyone here understands, you're Loki's wife, or at least some approximation of, and despite his previous antics he _is_ still a prince, so...'' she shrugged.

''So they feel like they have to be all formal, I get it.'' Darcy shook her head. Strangely enough, the fact that her station had been automatically _elevated_ by her association with Loki never occurred to her. She tended to forget that he was royal.

''Yes.'' Eir paused a moment, then added, ''I also think that many here are still a bit...wary and perhaps fearful towards him, and they don't want to give him any reason to be angry.'' That sounded somehow more accurate, in Darcy's opinion.

* * *

><p>Darcy left the Chambers feeling as though a weight had been lifted. For a second, she was almost giddy, wanted to go skipping down the elegant marble hallway. And then, up ahead, she spotted a familiar figure sitting by one of the large windows. Darcy stopped and stood still as Jane Foster turned her head. A smile broke out on the scientist's face, a bright, genuine smile that she hadn't worn in a very long time. ''Darcy!'' Jane called out, getting to her feet and hurrying over. ''It's so good to see you!'' She threw her arms warmly around her. Startled, Darcy returned the hug and then released her, noticing that there were tears in the corners of her friend's eyes. ''I'm really happy for you,'' the scientist added in a sincere voice, giving her hand a squeeze.<p>

Darcy blinked, blindsided by the sudden rush of friendliness and warmth. ''_Why_?'' she managed to gasp.

Now Jane looked surprised. ''Because...you know, because you're going to have a baby. Aren't you happy about that?''

''Yes, yeah, I'm happy but...why...'' as Darcy stood there rambling helplessly, the astrophysicist's face changed in understanding. ''Oh. Don't...don't worry about that,'' Jane said softly. A mist ghosted over her eyes. ''It's not an issue anymore.'' She looked away for a moment; a strand of dark hair slid across her face and she tucked it back behind her ear. Then she sank down onto the cushioned window seat and motioned for Darcy to join her. Rather than pressing the subject and asking _why_ it wasn't an issue any more, Darcy filed this information away and decided to keep their initial conversation simple and said, ''So, I guess we're like...refugees now?''

Jane grinned. ''I prefer to think of us as _guests_ but I guess technically we are refugees.'' She glanced around, taking note of their surroundings. ''In extremely posh digs,'' she added.

''Extremely,'' agreed Darcy with a nod.

''Were they having any luck back home?'' the scientist asked.

''I don't think so,'' she admitted with a light sigh. ''It was getting pretty spooky when we left.'' She couldn't help but cringe just a little at the thought of the rapidly darkening world that they had fled from.

''You saw more of what happened than I did,'' said Jane, staring out the window again, her voice suddenly very grey and haunted sounding. ''What the hell was he doing out there?'' she asked, and Darcy knew that she was talking about Lugh Retnick, and what had happened in Connecticut.

''Meddling,'' replied Darcy. ''But Retnick was really just a puppet. I still can't figure out exactly who is behind any of this, there's so many different sides to it, so many different people involved, in the present and the past, all merging into one big ball of chaos and horror.'' She sighed.

''I heard about the...virus or whatever it is that's spreading,'' noted Jane with a frown.

Darcy shook her head. ''It's not a virus.'' Suddenly she was struck with the uncomfortable memory of Penelope's ghastly, black-stained mouth curled up into a smile, eyes glittering with an ancient and terrible intelligence. She swallowed hard.

''Have you...seen...'' the scientist began tremulously.

''I have. I don't really want to talk about it right now.'' The direction of this particular conversation had Darcy growing quite queasy, and she felt the need to change the subject again. She'd just gotten such good news, but her joy, it seemed was going to be short-lived, because there were still so many terrible things out there, practically clawing at the door. ''So, uh, what's there to do for fun around here?''

Jane shrugged. ''Not much, to be honest with you. I feel really out of place, actually, everyone seems to have a stick up their ass about something.'' She shook her head. ''It's not quite what I expected.''

''That's just the way people look here, I think,'' Darcy replied with a roll of her eyes. ''I know exactly what you mean.''

''I guess I expected it to be...more?'' Jane seemed to be trying to find the right words to explain. ''I know that sounds strange because yes, here they are so incredibly advanced compared to us in so many ways but...it's also just like any other place, any other city with people doing their jobs and hurrying along and living their lives. The mundane aspect of it, that's what I wasn't prepared for.''

''I don't mind the mundane,'' declared Darcy. ''I've seen how weird it can get. I _relish_ the ordinary.''

Seeming to be pondering that statement, Jane added, ''I'm starting to see things a little differently now. I was always looking for the big answers, the wonder out there. I thought I was brave, that I would not only endure chaos, but _embrace_ it. And then I started to get a little taste of what chaos really was. That...man, the tall man,'' she said with a shudder. ''That enormous, glowing building. Sometimes I still see it when I close my eyes.''

The scientist gave a rueful shake of her head as she continued, ''It's like once again I've had to reexamine everything I thought I was so sure of. I'm realizing more and more every day now, especially after all of that...this is a world I need to stay on the outside of, as an objective observer. I'm not as strong as you. I don't belong to it the way that you do.'' Darcy opened her mouth to say something but Jane seemed to abruptly shift gears. Reaching into the messenger bag sitting next to her, she inexplicably pulled out a copy of _The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying._ ''This is a good one. Your friend Prudence recommended it. It sort of makes me feel better about, you know, the whole mortality thing.''

''All that jazz,'' Darcy added, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, though she was inwardly mulling over her friend's words. Jane laughed a little. ''Yeah. It's like you never really think about it until it's right in front of your face, and then it hits you all at once and makes you go a little crazy. I mean, I spent most of my life never really giving it too much of a serious thought.''

''I did,'' Darcy's voice suddenly dropped into sadness against her will as a memory came creeping unbidden across her brain. ''Do you remember Tinkerbell perfume from when you were a kid? Like, the original kind?''

Jane blinked at the abrupt non sequitur but replied, ''Uh, yeah, I think so. I didn't really play too much with girly stuff but...yeah, it came in a little plastic bottle with a heart on it?''

''And it was this nasty bright-ass yellow colour and was probably totally toxic,'' Darcy finished with a nod. ''That's the one. Anyhow, I remember this really dark moment that I had when I was about eight years old. It was right around the time that my mom was first diagnosed, she was getting really sick. I was alone in the house with her one day...my dad was out at the bar or something, that was where he usually was.'' Her eyes narrowed as she continued on with the story. Darcy hadn't thought of this particular event in years but now it was as if she was reliving it all over again, with garish clarity.

''She would go into these weird fits...it would start off really soft, like she'd be carrying on a conversation with someone that I couldn't see. And then the conversation would turn into an argument, and she'd start to pace, and stomp her feet and yell and yell. I went upstairs; I would always go and hide in my room when it happened. I'd just sit there and wish I was somewhere else, far away, where I didn't have to hear her anymore. But this one time, all of a sudden, I looked over at my dresser and saw this tiny little bottle of noxious smelling gold perfume and wondered—what would happen if I drank that? I knew it wasn't meant to be swallowed. Would I die? I somehow suddenly wanted to do something very dangerous, to test the limits of life, fate, the universe, whatever. The strange part was, I wasn't afraid of the consequences because I would have done anything, _anything_ to make her screaming stop, even if that meant hurting myself. I never did anything that day, though, I just kept...staring at that little bottle. I was fucking _eight_!'' There were no tears threatening to fall, only a sad, collapsing feeling that made her chest ache. Darcy calmed a moment and then continued, in a very quiet voice, ''I can't ever be the kind of mother who makes her child think such things.''

''You won't be,'' Jane quickly assured Darcy, patting her on the back.

''How do I know that? I don't know anything about being a mother! I spent most of my life being afraid of mine, even if it wasn't her fault.'' Darcy hated that this conversation had gotten so out of control. But in a way, she had to acknowledge that it was a _good_ thing—they were openly discussing things that needed to be said. Burying everything never worked, it clawed its way to the surface, stronger and more monstrous.

True to the way the conversation seemed to be running, leaping from topic to topic there and back again like a manic frog, Jane decided not to address Darcy's last statement at all, instead asking, ''Hey, do you remember that Tinkerbell peel-off nail polish? Does anyone make peel-off nail polish anymore?''

Darcy took a deep breath and then let out a little giggle. Forcing the memory away, back into whatever strange compartment in her mind that it had resurfaced from, she grinned and everything was ok for a little while. They were just two friends sitting by a window.

* * *

><p>''How did you know that I was pregnant anyway?'' Darcy asked Jane as they walked down the hall towards the throne room. Someone-a messenger, she supposed-had found them and informed her that the King and Queen had requested her presence. ''Frigga told me,'' replied Jane. Darcy shook her head at this. She should have known. The Queen of Asgard knew everything, it seemed. 'She probably knew before <em>me<em>,' Darcy thought to herself. Now they reached the doors and Jane hung back a little. ''I'll catch up with you later,'' the scientist said. ''I think that this is meant to be a private conversation and besides, that room gives me the creeps.'' She turned and headed in the other direction, while Darcy took a deep breath and walked through the doorway.

Frigga and Odin were seated there, staring down regally at her. Still not sure of the proper etiquette, she sank down into a curtsey and bowed her head. She heard Frigga's soft, tinkling laughter. ''Once again, my dear, that isn't necessary.'' The Queen got off of her throne and stepped down and over to Darcy, wrapping her in a warm embrace. She smelled like light and stars and flowers from an alien world. Darcy was instantly comforted. ''I am so happy to see you safe, my dear,'' Frigga whispered to her.

Now the Allfather got up and motioned her forward. With some trepidation, Darcy approached him. He was unsmiling, but not exactly stern, there may have been a small flicker of warmth in his ancient blue eyes, or it simply might have been a trick of the light. ''Let me see your hand, child.'' She knew immediately what he was referring to. Unflinching, she held out her hand to him.

Odin quietly studied the scar across her palm, then raised his head to look directly at Darcy. ''This is very old blood magic. I hope that you realize the magnitude of what you've done.'' That was all he said. Frigga came over now to stand beside the Allfather. She put a hand on his shoulder. ''If that spell was made for anyone, it's them,'' she told her husband pointedly, with a nod in Darcy's direction. ''Now let it be. This is a time for rest and safety.'' She moved away from him and took hold of Darcy's arm. ''Come on, dear, let's take a walk.'' Relieved to be out of the throne room and away from the Allfather, she gratefully followed beside the Queen as they walked out into the gardens. The fresh air felt wonderful on her face. They walked together in comfortable silence for some time, and then Darcy inexplicably found a question tumbling from her lips:

''We won't be safe here forever, will we?''

A glimmer of sadness shone in the Queen's eyes before she answered honestly. ''No, my dear, I'm afraid not. This story is far from over. Many perils still to be faced before the end. But much joy too.''

''Can you see how it ends? All of it, I mean?'' she asked, though the question made Darcy's heart pound and filled her with a sense of danger. She realized that she didn't want to know, but she had to ask. ''Can you see to...to the end of our lives?''

Wordlessly, Frigga gave a very slow nod.

''And—'' Darcy felt like her heart was about to stop now, this was a perilous line of inquiry, but one that she couldn't stop now that she'd begun.

''You will be together,'' said the Queen. ''That's all you need to know.'' They took a few more steps and then she added, ''It is a greater gift than you realize. Not everything dies the same way, but almost everything dies alone. Except for you and him.''

* * *

><p>Darcy went back to Loki's room with Frigga's words still burning brightly in her mind. Shaking her head to clear it, she walked over to the bookcase and pulled down an old volume and began to read. It was a dry, rather boring book, but the blandness helped to refocus her mind. After a little while, though, it became slightly <em>too<em> boring, and she walked over to replace it on the shelf. Then she heard the door open behind her. Loki walked inside, tired and annoyed. He'd spent a rather miserable and annoying several hours trapped in several meetings discussing matters that he either had no opinion on whatsoever, or opinions that would simply be futile to voice. After standing still for a moment, taking a deep breath and running his fingers through his hair, Loki's eyes set on Darcy. Pure _want_ stormed over him acutely; he crossed the room and had his arms around her in an instant. He had felt trapped and restless and angry for so much of the day and now he craved the freedom and peace that she gave.

''I need you now,'' he told her in a dark, low voice that rasped against her ear. ''It's been too damned long.'' He pulled her against him tightly so that she could feel exactly how much he needed her. Darcy trembled a little at the feel of him pressing against her lower back. Putting his hands firmly on her shoulders, Loki spun her around and took a long look into her eyes. She saw burning longing in his, and also something else, some hidden, silvery shard of fear, tucked far back. She knew that Loki felt lost on Asgard, uneasy; this place would never be his home again. But he had brought her there because it was the safest place, and he cared about her well-being above all else.

The last day or so since escaping from the Palace of Souls had passed by strangely—Darcy still hadn't adjusted to the ordinary flow of time and it sometimes still felt as though she were moving in and out of a fog, speeding up and then slowing down. It felt like forever since they'd last touched each other, been intimate in the way that they ordinarily craved so. Loki slipped his hand around the back of her head, threaded his tapered fingers through Darcy's hair and tugged a little on the strands. A smile shivered across her parted lips. Then he tilted her head back slightly, bringing his mouth down against hers with an insistent, possessive kiss. While he kissed her, his hands moved over her shoulders and down to the hem of her shirt, which he began to pull up. Darcy broke the kiss and stepped back for a moment, helping, pulling the shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor.

Loki's eyes roved over her hungrily, and then he pulled her to him, claiming her mouth again. He bit her lip, her eyelashes fluttered. Then he trailed down, his mouth fastening on her neck, leaving marks, she knew, but didn't care. She _wanted_ him to. With everything else consuming her mind, Darcy had almost forgotten how good this was, how like oxygen to starved cells. How beautiful he looked when he was caught up in this desperate, frantic need to pull her closer, because that's where things made sense. She was burning up, just as eager as he was.

''Tell me you want me. Say it!'' he ordered. Darcy remembered those words, he'd said them to her before. When he was vulnerable but trying to hide it, Loki demanded love and begged for it at the same time. Instead, though, she found herself saying, ''I love you.'' Darcy held her breath once she felt the words pass her lips, they seemed to hang trembling in midair. Loki was utterly still for a moment, and there was a deep, dark look in his eyes, like a lake in the evening. He didn't say anything, but she could feel his heart pounding as he tilted her back on the bed. She seemed to fall back in slow motion against those amazingly soft sheets as he pulled off her shoes, taking his time. Then he dragged off her socks, running his cool fingers over her feet as he did so. She trembled at how good it felt. Darcy seemed to be going into a trancelike state, his actions were totally hypnotic. Reaching up, Loki slowly and deliberately worked to unzip the front of her jeans and then drag them and her panties down and off of her in one single motion, leaving her bare and open to him. His fingers trailed up along her leg, higher still to the inside of her thighs.

After a few teasing brushes that seemed to last for far too long, his fingers finally found the place that she needed them to. Blood pounded in his ears as he stared down at her. He loved the heat of her, how wet she got for him, just him, how eager. He loved the sounds that she made, how she would moan and thrash and beg to have him inside because that, more than anything else, felt like prayer.

''Please,'' whimpered Darcy, imploring him with her big eyes. Obligingly, Loki thrust two long fingers inside of her and she cried out his name. His cock throbbed at both the sound and the feel of her. She rocked her hips wantonly, he let out a small groan. He had wanted to make this last, but he needed to be inside of her immediately, needed to lose himself. Because she made sense even if nothing in the universe did. She was making little mewling sounds beneath him, nearly drunk with desire. Unable to hold out any longer, he pulled away from her and quickly shed his remaining clothes, then climbed back over her.

Loki firmly pinned Darcy's hands up over her head and held them there; she let out a moan of delight as heat and arousal flooded through her at the sensation. Finally, he pushed inside of her, all at once, and she cried out. Oh, he wanted it to be slower, but he was frantic, the feel of her had made him half-crazy, the sight of her pinned beneath him, so lovely, the knowledge that she was carrying his child, that the last time they had done this was the time that it had happened-no, there was no time for slow. This was fire, insistent fire, needy and devouring.

He was thrusting into her like a madman, still holding her down, so hard that she might bruise for just an instant, but Darcy loved it, loved the feel of him possessing her. So much of him, all around, she was drowning. Loki was in her head, in her blood, and...he...was...doing that snake thing with his hips; he lifted her up a little, thrust to just the right spot and then she came apart with a scream. Her climax triggered his and she felt him come, felt it deep inside of her, stronger than before, and she kept orgasming, kept clenching and squeezing around him as wave after wave crashed over her. ''So _good_, baby,'' she managed to gasp out as one last glorious tremor shook her. She felt drunk again, dazed, so in-fucking-love that she felt like her heart might explode. He collapsed on top of her, rested his head in the crook of her neck.

Darcy still felt warm and glowing as the seconds slowly limped by. It was a feeling of soft, muted contentedness, like being stoned and watching incense smoke drift lazily through the air. He finally pulled himself out of her, leaving her with a remarkable emptiness. Loki readjusted his position, settling back down beside her, his hand resting on her stomach.''It felt...extra good this time,'' she mentioned after a moment. Her voice was almost shy. ''When you...came inside me, it was different. More.''

His lips curved in a sudden smile of understanding. ''You're..uh, getting it at its full potency, so to speak. I don't exactly need to worry about getting you pregnant anymore.''

''Wow,'' Darcy murmured, resting her hand over his on her belly as she contemplated that statement. The happy, dazed look on her face right then suddenly made it hard for Loki to catch his breath. He held her even more tightly. ''I saw Eir,'' she told him. A slight pang of apprehension went through him but the calm smile on her face let him know that there was nothing to fear and he relaxed. ''She said that everything's fine.'' Loki smiled at this, breathed a little easier, even if only for a little while.

''Everything is fine,'' he repeated, the words ghosting cooly over Darcy's skin in a mantra as they fell together into that relaxed twilight space before dreams come. Just for a moment, she almost believed it. ''Everything is fine.''

He never said that he loved her. And he might never say it, Darcy knew. Not out loud. But she swore that she could hear him whisper it across her mind as she was falling asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**3 Weeks Later**

In a desolate and windswept area of Norway there lay a large outpost like a sprawling dot among the white and empty landscape. Inside, seven people had been staying for the past few weeks: Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Prudence and Selene Sang, and Heid. Tony Stark was there too, but he left intermittently for several days at a time, during which he flew back to New York. Whenever he returned, the news he brought with him was not good. The seventh person was Charlie Andrews, who no longer resembled himself at all. He was now simply a stretched, pale skin with limbs and eyes, the Vessel for something else, something that had crawled out of a portal, sniffing the air until it caught his scent. And pounced.

Natasha had been putting it off for some time, but now everything was ready. She was finally going to have a conversation with the thing that had taken over the body of her young assistant. Andrews was being held safely in a glass containment cell at the end of a long, grey corridor. He was kept under 24/7 surveillance. Cameras monitored the room from several different angles and sent a constant feed to a control station. Bruce and Prudence now sat at that station, poised and watching the interrogation unfold from a distance. ''Do we have any audio?'' Prudence asked. Bruce toggled a few switches. ''We do now,'' he said. On the screen in front of them, they watched Natasha approach the glass cell. She didn't say anything for a moment, just regarded the creature sitting calmly inside.

''What is your name?'' she asked it in a cold voice. It simply stared back at her through Andrew's eyes and then said something in a foreign language.

Natasha glared back. ''Speak English, I know you know how.''

It deliberated for a moment, then spoke. ''I have no name,'' it rasped at her.

''I doubt that very much. What do you want?''

It took a moment before answering, and then its words came in a rattling hiss. ''I want to walk in the air. I want to feel this earth, trembling and cowering beneath my feet.'' Pausing, it let this statement hang in the air, and then gave an ugly and curious smile as it crept closer to the glass.

''He loved you so much,'' it chuckled, still smiling at Natasha. ''He looked at you as if you were some kind of goddess.'' It shook its head. ''A pity he never got to see the truth.''

''And what truth is that?''

''That you are...empty. Cold and hollow.'' It blinked its filmy eyes. ''You might as well already be dead.''

Natasha didn't even bat an eyelash at this, simply replied, ''I might as well be, true, but since we're both here now and at least...somewhat alive, why don't you explain to me what the plan is?''

''Would you like to hear a story, pretty one?'' it asked. She nodded icily.

''In the beginning, there was us, and we were alone. We created you, lived with you, among you. We...loved you.'' A grim, nasty look swarmed around its face as it continued. ''And then you built your cities and walls and drove us out, exiling us to distant corners of the universe, forsaking your magic, forgetting your own identity. You were sealing your own fate, cursing yourselves.'' Now it smiled again, a grey, shimmery smile, like an eel. ''But we never truly left, we linger on the edges of every dream, we are that moment when you suddenly feel as if you're a thousand years old and don't know why. You have always been missing us, always seeking reunion and now, finally, you shall have it. It will be better, I promise you. No traffic, no missiles, no poverty, no technology in which to trap yourselves. The wanting finally ends, and peace comes at last.''

''Pardon me for saying so, but you don't look very peaceful,'' noted the Black Widow as she digested everything that had just been said.

''Neither do you. It's hard to look peaceful inside of a cage, isn't it?''

She ignored that statement, instead asking, ''You said that in the beginning, there was you. Where did _you_ come from?''

It gave a dismissive shrug. ''We were always here.''

''Everything has an origin. You expect me to believe this little bedtime story that you're spinning for me, then just answer my question.'' Natasha folded her arms.

It leaned even closer to the glass now, looking deeply into her eyes, almost as if it was looking for something. It seemed almost...uncomfortable, she noticed.

''There was _nothing_ before us,'' it hissed in reply. ''We were the first, and we were alone. Oh so alone. The world was empty and wild and savage and the sky hung endlessly. We made you, made you to have something to hold and we were in awe of how beautiful you were. And then you ran from us, once you saw our true form.'' It balled its hands into fists, looking momentarily swarmed with rage. Then it drew in a few wheezy, damp breaths and calmed enough to speak again. ''Despite your rejection of us we never stopped calling to you—in nightmares, in the edge of madness brushing against your skin, a chill along your spine while you sit alone in an empty room. We became the monsters that you made us out to be. It was our only way of reaching you. And now, finally, after all this time—you reached back.''

''I didn't,'' Natasha said pointedly.

''No, you didn't, but someone did. And that was all it took, pretty one.''

There was something else about this that didn't add up for the Black Widow. ''I find it funny that there's no real mention of you or your kind anywhere in human history,'' she ventured. ''Even from the very beginning. But there are gods-''

''Those are the gods of _other_ realms, visitors that you claimed,'' it retorted sneeringly. ''They were so bright and shining and beautiful. Of course you loved them better than us. And we became monsters in the light of their glory.'' A fierce scowl dragged the corners of Andrew's stolen face. It was amazing to the Black Widow how different he looked with something else behind those eyes. She barely even recognized the young man who had remained so loyally by her side. It made her hate these invaders even more, filled her with an even stronger resolve to end their reign no matter what. Because she knew that whatever these things really were, they had never loved anyone, and they had always been monsters.

* * *

><p><strong>Asgard<strong>

Asgard had many libraries. There were at least three in the palace alone, Darcy realized. It was going to take forever to go through them all. She was certain that there must be some sort of searchable index, but she didn't exactly know what exactly she was looking for. Even so, there was something very pleasant about the way the hours slowly passed by as she went through the shelves, pulling down old volumes and sifting through them. She liked the smell of the pages and the way they felt under her fingers. Sunlight slid in the windows and slanted across the floor. Everything was soft and shadowy and quiet. A large, heavy book with dark green binding caught Darcy's eye and it took both hands to pull it down. She sat cross-legged on the marble floor and opened it. It was a book all about trees, she realized. Well, not just trees—it was almost a field guide to the flora of all of the realms, complete with illustrations. Clearly, it had been a gargantuan undertaking. Each entry contained incredibly detailed information about the particular tree or plant, the realm or realms where it was found, and also whatever magical or mythological properties that it had. Darcy flipped a few more pages and then she saw a very large drawing of the tree that she'd seen in her dream. She quickly turned to the entry next to it. It _was_ a yew, she realized. ''_Connection with divinity, the otherworld, immortality,_ _death_.'' She read the attributed symbolism aloud. Even her whispered words echoed slightly. Then the sound of footsteps came, startling her out of her reading.

''Are you ready?'' Loki asked, looking down at her sitting on the floor, surrounded by a pile of old books. He looked amused at the sight. Darcy blinked. ''Ready for what?''

''You have a checkup with Eir in less than ten minutes,'' he reminded her gently.

''Ooh!'' She quickly closed the book and got up off the floor. ''I'm sorry, I totally forgot...''

''It's alright,'' he told her with a smile. She looked around at the pile of books in dismay. ''I...uh...''

''Just leave them there, don't worry about it,'' Loki said with a casual shrug. ''They have a rather strange cataloging and filing system here anyway. Someone will be along to put them back soon.''

Darcy looked down at the large book of trees. ''Can I maybe...check this one out, though? It might be useful.''

Loki shrugged again. ''Just take it.''

''Isn't that like stealing?'' She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

''No, it's just borrowing off the record. You'll bring it back. Now, let's go.''

''You sure seem eager,'' she remarked as she fell into step beside him, the book tucked under one arm.

''Well, I didn't get to go with you the last time,'' he replied.

Her heart warmed a little at the unexpected sweetness. ''I appreciate that you want to be there, but nothing interesting is going to happen for awhile, it's still too early. You can't even tell I'm pregnant yet.''

That was true, to the naked eye Darcy didn't appear to be showing, however he could tell that there was a difference, her body was changing ever so slightly, getting softer around the edges. Her skin was brighter and her breasts were even fuller than before. ''Well, it's all interesting to me,'' he said, and she warmed even more. As they arrived at the Chambers, the healer opened the door and stuck her head out.

''Loki!'' called Eir, waving him over. ''May I have a word with you, please? Just have a seat, Darcy, this won't take long.''

Darcy watched as Loki grudgingly followed the healer into the room. She closed the door. A few minutes later it opened again and he walked out with a strange, amused look on his face. ''What did she want?'' Darcy asked with curiosity.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. ''She oh so helpfully explained to me that pregnant women have certain...needs and wanted to make sure that yours were being met. I assured her that I was keeping you very well-fucked and she got rather prissy and told me that there was no need to be crude, and I said, ''well, you started it,'' and then she told me to get out and said that she doesn't know how you put up with me.'' He smiled impishly.

''I don't know either, sometimes. Don't look quite so pleased with yourself,'' Darcy told him, shaking her head as she tried to hide her grin. ''Wait out here,'' she told Loki. He made a motion to protest and she sighed. ''You wanted to come, and you're here, but you've already pissed Eir off once today, so you're gonna sit this one out.'' She got up and went into the chambers. The healer did her usual voodoo—waving that wand over her lower body, watching as the strange patterns formed in the air, a mix of light and shadow. Darcy noticed that the patterns were getting larger, more defined than before. She thought that she could glimpse...''Wait!'' she said, sitting up a little. ''This is like some sort of sonogram, isn't it? Is that...'' she pointed to a small blur, the curled shape of a developing fetus. Eir smiled and nodded. ''Yes, it is. Still very small, but growing all the time.'' She pulled the wand away and the image dissolved slowly. Darcy followed it with her eyes as it trailed off in tendrils of evaporating light until it was gone. Suddenly, she felt like she was going to cry.

''I'm sorry that Loki pissed you off before,'' she said lamely, trying to force her mind onto a different subject. The flood of emotion that was slowly gathering inside of her needed to be kept at bay, she felt, at least for a little while longer. Darcy simply wasn't ready to deal with it yet.

''It's alright,'' the healer replied with a light chuckle. ''I've known Loki for...well, for most of his life. Ever since he was brought to Asgard as an infant. I never saw a more curious, more aware child. He was definitely special.'' She sighed.

Darcy smiled. ''Tell me more about him.''

Eir shook her head. ''He grew from a precocious child into such an _aggravating_ young man. So intelligent, so talented—but ever so infuriating at times.'' She laughed again, lightly, as she found a memory. ''He used to break into my supply cabinets and steal my herbs to use in whatever mischievous spell or potion he was concocting at the time.'' All of a sudden, Darcy felt like there was a warm halo collecting around her head. It grew and hummed until she found herself becoming witness to something inside of Eir's mind; a memory was being shared.

She had to crack a smile at the memory that materialized in front of her as if on a screen. The healer was dragging a young, annoyed-looking Loki along by his ear. ''Ow, let go of me!'' he yelped, batting at her hands, trying to twist out of her iron grip. ''You are a naughty, naughty thing!'' She shook him a little. ''You've got such a beautiful face, why must you be so wicked?'' she demanded, then released him. He scowled and rubbed his ear.

Darcy laughed as the image dissolved slowly from her mind.

Eir chuckled as well as she continued, ''You know, I think that he'll always be a _little_ bit wicked—but I never believed him to be so monstrous as they could make him out to be at times. He didn't have an easy life, despite everything he was given. He was so very _lonely. _Just because a child has a place to live and people to care for him, doesn't mean that he isn't lacking, or hurting. In the back of his mind, Loki always knew that there was something different about him, that in some way, he didn't belong. No matter how much we all tried to make him believe...'' The healer gave another shake of her head. ''I'm not ever going to excuse his actions. Those are his and he must live with them. But...mistakes were made. We could have done better.'' She looked away with a thoughtful expression and then turned back to Darcy. ''I think that you are very good for him. You soften something in him, ease some old wound. You make up for our failure. And for that, I am very happy.''

* * *

><p>A few hours later Darcy lay on the bed in their room, cozy and wrapped in a blanket. Eir had been correct-she was far more tired than usual, and tended to take naps in the afternoon. Late afternoon in Asgard was a good time for sleeping, it seemed. She'd just stirred awake, blinking softly, feeling that comfortable, foggy in-between state still cocooning her. Loki, who was sitting beside her, watched her as she woke, until she was completely aware and smiling at him. ''Hey,'' she said.<p>

He smiled back at her. Then his eyes caught on her copy of _The Mists of Avalon; _he picked the very large book up off of the nightstand and examined it. ''What's this one about?'' he asked her, flipping through the pages.

''It's like a re-telling of the legend of King Arthur, kind of. I'm not sure if you know about him...he pulled a sword out of a stone, hung around with a wizard named Merlin.'' Darcy's voice was still thick and lazy with sleep as she spoke. ''Anyhow, that one's mostly about his half-sister, Morgaine –she's a priestess on this magical island called Avalon. It's hidden by mists all of the time, cloaked from the outside world.''

''Like the Palace of Souls?'' Loki wondered, flipping through the pages.

She groaned. ''No...not really evil like that. It's a nice place. They worship the Goddess and grow apples and stuff. It's a really long, involved story, that's why its taken me about a hundred years to finish it.''

''Apples again,'' he sighed, closing the book and setting it back down. ''Always the blasted apples. They need to come up with a different fruit.''

Darcy shrugged. ''Well, there's like...pomegranates. In that myth about Hades and Persephone, he tricks her into eating the seeds, and that's how he gets her to stay in the Underworld with him.'' She smiled. ''I always really liked that story. I got the feeling, though, that she actually wanted to stay there. I don't think that he needed to trick her at all, I think that she chose to eat those seeds.''

''Why?''

''Because she loved him. Because the world above was too bright, who knows.'' She shrugged again. ''Queen of the Underworld does kinda have a badass ring to it, doesn't it?''

* * *

><p>Not long after that, Loki was summoned to the throne room. With great annoyance and reluctance, he left Darcy and went to see why. The first thing that he noticed was there two other people there, in addition to his mother and father. By their bearing, regal features, and the way that they were dressed, he assumed that they were from Vanaheim. 'Pompous asses,' he thought with distaste. Their eyes drifted over to him as he walked in. ''What's this about?'' he asked the king and queen, inclining his head towards the visitors.<p>

''They came to see Darcy,'' Frigga said. Her face was expressionless. Loki's eyes narrowed immediately. ''Why?'' he demanded.

''Because she's important,'' Odin replied. ''Have sense, Loki. A human girl transformed into an Aesir is interesting enough, but when that same girl is carrying a half-Jotun child conceived in a place beyond time, that tends to be _very_ interesting to all the worlds.''

Loki felt ice splinters under his skin. It was rage, cold rage trying to climb out. ''I don't _care_ how interesting it is to any of them. Hang the worlds, damn each and every last wretched one of them. Nobody is going to treat her like some sort of spectacle. _Doesn't anyone have anything better to do?_'' he roared at the entire room. ''Out!'' he screamed at the visitors, storming over to them. They had the good sense to scuttle back a bit like startled crabs, moving to the door. ''Out, out!'' Finally, they turned and fled. There was silence in the room. Loki heard Frigga sigh deeply.

''Well, I hope you're pleased with your little outburst. You always were so...diplomatic.'' Odin said, his voice meanly sarcastic. Loki gave his adoptive father a piercing glare. ''Do not let that happen again,'' he said very softly. ''If anyone comes asking after Darcy again, _turn them away_.''

''You presume to give me orders?'' Odin raised an eyebrow. Frigga rested her hand on his arm, giving him a sideways look.

''I presume,'' Loki said coldly. They looked at each other for a long, icy moment of silence.

''You are dismissed,'' the Allfather said. Loki turned on his heels and stomped out of the room. Fear and anger tore at him like claws. He found himself walking aimlessly, trying to ease some of the jittery rage that had him nearly trembling. As he walked by the Healing Chambers, Eir poked her head out from behind the door. ''Loki?'' she asked. ''Are you alright?'' The look of genuine concern on the healer's face made him want to shove her. He'd always hated when she tried to be nice, because for a moment it always felt real, and he wanted to believe that she meant it.

''I'm fine,'' he replied tensely.

She pushed the door open a little further. He thought he heard her sigh. ''Why don't you come inside?''

It was perhaps the opening of the door, or maybe her words, but Loki found a memory slipping up out of the cracks in his mind. He'd been a young boy, still trying to trail after Thor and Sif and the others. They went out to play explorers one day, he had wanted to come. They'd told him no, not today, to go find something else to do. He'd stubbornly followed after them anyhow, but he couldn't catch up. As he was turning around, he slipped and fell down an embankment. He struggled up, dirty and bruised, with scratches all over his limbs and a split lip. Refusing to cry, he pulled himself together and staggered back to the palace. He'd wandered down the hall, shaking with fury, and then he heard the click of the doors to the chambers opening, and Eir's concerned voice saying, 'Loki, are you alright?' And he'd said, 'I'm fine,' but she didn't believe him one bit. She took him inside and cleaned and bandaged him up, asking him what had happened. He remembered that he was still trying not to cry the whole time. That was the day that Loki learned that the most useful way of dealing with tears was to ice them over, turn them into anger.

The memory faded away now, dissolving into the present, where Loki and the Healer regarded each other almost cautiously.''I've always been so confused by you,'' Eir told him. ''You're so full of paradoxes, there is a war inside of your heart all of the time. How can you be so...wonderfully soft and loving towards one person and so cold and hard to everyone else?''

''I don't need everyone else. _Everyone else_ hasn't exactly been soft and loving to me, have they?'' he asked, his voice suddenly laced with venom. He glared at the healer with ice in his eyes.''How _dare_ you! How dare you stand there and act like you know me, like you understand what's in my heart. You lied to me for years, along with the rest of them. Take care of Darcy, make sure she and my child are safe, but please, spare me your feeble and pathetic attempts to pretend that you suddenly care about what I am or how I feel.'' He stood and left abruptly, slamming the door a little harder than he wanted to. His hands were shaking.

* * *

><p><strong>Norway<strong>

''You seem pretty chummy with Dear Prudence. Robbing the cradle now, are we?'' Stark asked Banner with a wide grin. He leaned against the counter at the work station and waited patiently for a reply. Teasing the scientist made him gleeful. There was a marked shortage of things to be gleeful about, lately, and so he had to take what he could get.

''Hardly,'' snorted Bruce, though the tips of his ears turned a little pink, Tony noticed. ''She's almost 25,'' he added, somewhat defensively.

''Hey, I think it's cute.''

At that precise moment there was a small knock on the door. The two men turned to see Prudence standing there. Her eyes moved between them. ''I hope I'm not interrupting.''

''No, no. Come in,'' Bruce motioned her forward, pulling off his glasses. ''What's up?''

''I have an idea,'' she said shyly. ''It might not work but it could be worth a try.''

''I _love_ ideas,'' declared Tony. ''Spill.''

''Well, a year or so ago, Selene and I performed a house cleansing and an exorcism. It was definitely different from this...it was just a lot of very negative, trapped energy perpetuating itself in one space rather than an actual entity, but it got me interested. I've always really been into herbalism, and the magical properties of different plants. There are a few specific ones that are generally used in spells or rituals of binding, banishing, or exorcism. Really, though, in order to perform any ritual of that nature, you have to know exactly what you're dealing with, in order to know what might make it tick. We seem to have narrowed it down to the point where we believe that these entities are very old and the ones that speak are speaking Mesopotamian languages. By all accounts, there were certain magical rituals performed in ancient Mesopotamia. I did a whole bunch of research and I think I can figure out more or less what sort of herbs that they might have used in similar rituals. We have no way of knowing exactly how they were performed but I'll bet I can at least make an educated guess. If nothing else, it's worth a shot.''

Tony nodded. ''What do you need from us?''

''I want to somehow...weaponise these herbs, turn them into a kind of spray, like mace. It might not stop them completely, but it could possibly act as a deterrent, especially if they become violent.''

''Ok.'' he said, the cogs in his mind turning rapidly in thought. ''We can do that. Make a list of everything that you need on your end. I'm going back to New York tomorrow morning, I should be able to get it all then. What about the ritual aspect of it?'' he asked.

Prudence shifted nervously. ''I'm still working on that. Like I said, it might not do anything. But...it might get some sort of a reaction out of the thing, we might learn more about what exactly they are and how to fight them. There _has_ to be a way. They were contained for this long...'' she trailed off thoughtfully. ''I listened to Natasha's interview with that thing over and over again. Something about its story didn't add up. I don't think that they're these sad creatures who loved us from afar all this time. We may have driven them out of this world, but not through simple neglect and selfishness. I think that they were _banished_, and banished for a good reason.''

''Because they've tried this before?'' Tony supplied.

Pru nodded. ''I think they may have. And someone figured out a way to stop them, or at least keep them contained somewhere. We just have to discover how they did it.''


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey loves! Sorry that it took so long to update, been crazy busy lately between work and traveling for a friend's wedding. Here is the next chapter for you, please let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p><strong>Connecticut<strong>

Off to the side of the highway, near the entrance to the woods, an unfortunate car accident had occurred. The mangled wreck was still smoking upside down in a twisted pile. One young man, who couldn't have been more than thirty, had managed to drag himself away from the scene despite his injuries, which were quite severe. Now he lay bleeding on the grass, struggling to slowly crawl towards the road, praying that someone might stop and help. His cell phone was still somewhere in the car, he realized with a sinking heart, as he managed to turn his head and look behind him. He blinked, thought he was hallucinating when he saw the trees move there, saw a dark figure moving towards him, a blurry outline that left him chilled, filled him with a horrible foreboding that he couldn't quite explain. Dark, cavernous eyes like old wells, a flash of teeth, the smell of copper, of blood. _It must be a nightmare, it must be_, the thought pounded across his brain. But no, the figure kept coming forward, closing the space between them. The young man was easy prey, sprawled there, dying, unable to run, like an insect struggling uselessly in a spider's web, batting its wings in a futile hum. Panic set in then, not the ordinary panic of those who know that their life is ending, this was the terror and dread of something much worse. A song came whispering across the air, almost familiar, something old and barely remembered from childhood, like a nursery rhyme. But why? _Oh dear, what can the matter be... _Someone was singing to him, that was the last thing that he was aware of before the darkness closed in.

After a few moments of long silence, he stood, stretching his limbs as if nothing at all had happened, wiping the blood off of his skin with his shirtsleeve. Then, with his new face, the Reckoner smiled.

**Norway**

It had taken her several days of hard work pouring over endless translations found on online archives, and more than a few Skype consultations with professors at Yale that Bruce Banner had been kind enough to arrange for her, but Prudence was now finally able to try a ritual that she hoped might work. It wasn't going to drive the invading presence out of Andrews or any of the other victims, but it was possible that it might weaken them, or at least provide a little extra insight into what could. She stared down at the text in front of her, it was a very old hymn to Inanna, a powerful Sumerian goddess, the Queen of Heaven. If the beings really were familiar with ancient Mesopotamia as they claimed to be, then there would most certainly be some kind of reaction to the words.

Tony Stark had collected all of the supplies that she had requested, and had taken great interest in the project, designing a rather impressive weapon—a very large cylindrical cartridge that, when deployed, released a pressurized spray of the herbs that Prudence had suggested.

It was dark outside the outpost. It was getting to that time of the year when the light shrank away from the sky, the days whittling down to nothing. Soon it would be dark nearly all of the time.

''Are you sure that you're ready to try this?'' Natasha asked the young woman with a skeptical look on her face. Prudence glanced over to her mother and Heid, who gave her an encouraging nod. ''Yes, I'm sure,'' she replied. ''Hey, if it works it works, if it doesn't...'' she shrugged. ''Then we start over.'' She looked down at the cartridge on the table. ''Once I go in there and start, only interrupt if you have to, ok?'' They nodded at her.

The young woman gathered up the sheets of paper and stepped into the room. She kept her back straight and her face absolutely blank and calm. Prudence knew better than to show any outward sign of fear, it would sense it immediately and use it against her. Andrews regarded her with a curious look as she stepped into the quarantine room and closed the door behind her. Without preamble, she began to recite the words on the page in front of her. Upon hearing them, the being stiffened a bit in uncomfortable recognition. ''Ah,'' it said, as if remembering something. She stared dead ahead, the words firmly flowing, filling up the small room.

It paused a moment. ''That's a tired old song,'' it said in a dry, dismissive voice. ''And the Queen of Heaven can't hear you. She hasn't been listening for a long time.''

Undaunted, Prudence ignored him and continued to chant. ''Hmm...I sense an old bloodline in you. Very strong...I remember the scent of your kind.'' It cocked Andrews' head to the side and stared right at her. Her face screwed up in discomfort but she kept reciting the words. Blood slowly began to drip out of her nose. She planted her feet firmly on the floor and made her voice even louder and more forceful. It didn't seem to like that, it moved closer, an ugly sneer crossing its face. ''Your goddess isn't coming to protect you,'' it said, and she began to sway a little in pain but then steeled herself again and kept chanting.

''This has to stop,'' said Bruce, grabbing the canister off of the table and pulling the door open. Andrews apparently didn't like this intrusion, because it briefly released whatever hold it had on Prudence and moved back ever so slightly, frowning. ''What...what are you?'' it asked Banner. The scientist ignored the question and used the canister to deploy the weird pressurized herbal mace that they'd concocted, spraying it right into Andrews' eyes. It screamed and clutched at its face, falling to the floor. Bruce grabbed Prudence, quickly dragging her out of the room and shutting the door firmly behind him.

The witch wiped the drying blood from her pale face with a shaky hand and took a deep breath. ''Thank you,'' she told Bruce, looking up at him gratefully. Inside the room, Andrews was still howling and twitching, curled into a ball on the floor. ''Well, at least we know that thing works,'' she said. ''And I know one other thing—it definitely did not like what I was trying to do. It was the most...awful feeling. It felt like it was looking around inside of me for something, crawling all through me. And then it couldn't find it, so it just...it felt like it was...trying to crush my skull from the inside. It was...angry...and...bitter. It was the loneliest, ugliest thing I have ever felt.'' She looked back through the glass, into the containment cell. ''These things...they _resent _us.''

''Well, they may resent us, but that one seemed a little...confused by you, Bruce,'' Natasha observed. ''It asked what you were.''

Banner shrugged as if it were irrelevant. ''I ask myself that all the time.''

The Black Widow turned back to Prudence. ''And it seemed to know you somehow, Pru. What was that it said, 'I remember the scent of your kind.' Do you think that maybe your family or your ancestors had some kind of interactions with these things before?''

Now it was Prudence's turn to shrug. Her head still ached dully and she needed a long nap. ''I wouldn't know,'' she mumbled. ''I would,'' spoke up Heid. The old woman, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, still and silent, now came over and rested her hands comfortingly on Pru's shoulders. ''You did very well, my dear,'' she whispered to her granddaughter, who managed a small smile. Then she looked up at Natasha with her deep and ageless eyes. ''I too have a story to tell you, fierce girl.''

**Asgard**

Jane had been correct about one thing, Asgard really was like any other city—if you stayed there long enough it became frustratingly mundane, people going this way and that, doing their jobs and living their lives. It was also a large political center for all of the realms, it seemed. On Earth, people tended to worry about those things on a much smaller and more immediate level. On Asgard, they watched over Nine whole worlds, and all the happenings were discussed at long length, which was why Loki was called away to so many meetings.

Darcy was rather pleased that he was getting an opportunity to be involved in such matters. She thought that it showed Odin cared about what he thought, enough to let him participate. Loki, however, did not see it this way. He still maintained that it was all a punishment, that Odin's main focus was making him suffer. But as much as he grumbled, almost against his will he seemed to be drawn into whatever they discussed all day; he had some very loud opinions, ones that he often voiced to her behind the closed doors of their room. ''Why don't you just say this in the meetings?'' Darcy asked him in exasperation. ''It won't do any good,'' was always his reply.

''How do you know if you don't even try?'' she wanted to say, but just sighed and shook her head instead. ''Do they talk about what's going on back home? Have they figured out anything?'' Loki shook his head. ''They discuss it, but it's honestly not their number one priority. They're having quite a bit of trouble with certain uprisings in the other realms, and riots and hostage-takings. It's not an immediate concern for them, at least not yet. You know how these things work,'' he added. ''You understand politics. Damned ugly and unfair, but it's always been thus, in every world.''

She didn't ask how long they would have to stay, anymore. She let herself lose track of the days. Jane seemed to be fitting in just fine, she spent a good deal of time in some of the observatories, or talking to Heimdall about the skies, charting foreign constellations. She was in her element, and it made Darcy happy to see her mind whirring away again. She seemed so much more like her old self.

Darcy still spent much of her time in the libraries. It was almost funny, though she'd always liked to read, she tended to avoid the library at school like the plague. The libraries on Asgard were different though, there was an almost mystical aura to them, giving it the feel of a sacred place. There was so much knowledge contained there, it gave her an almost narcotic thrill to peruse the shelves, knowing that she had access to some sacred information, the kind that perhaps nobody from her world had ever seen before. That made her feel special, yet also the smallest bit unworthy.

Maybe it was the need for something to focus on that so drew Darcy to the libraries, or perhaps it was the nagging sensation that there was something there that she needed to discover, calling to her. Even if the others here seemed to be willing to temporarily ignore what was going on in her world, it didn't mean that she had to. As the days passed by she became acutely aware that the child inside of her was growing, and this filled her with a sense of urgency.

She missed Earth, hated the thought that it was decaying, rotting like old fruit, worms burrowing in and out. It left a terrible, cold knot in her stomach and she tried her best not to dwell on clock was running down, and she didn't want to bring their baby into a dangerous world, where demonic bodysnatchers roamed. The Reckoner was still out there, somewhere, and he wasn't someone to be underestimated. She shivered at the thought of his burning, hungry eyes, the madness contained just behind them.

When she'd made her way through many of the useful-seeming books in one particular section of the library, she moved along the stacks down further toward the back, where the older volumes were kept. It didn't seem to be frequented much, there were far more cobwebs there than in the other sections. The binding on the books was also older, the pages more worn. ''They're antiquated,'' the librarian told her. ''Old stories. Nobody's really interested anymore.'' The librarian was happy to have a visitor, it seemed, she introduced herself after finding Darcy sitting on the floor surrounded by a pile of books. ''Ah, so you're the one who's been making such a mess,'' she'd laughed.

She taught Darcy a little more about the layout of the library, the way the books were classified. ''On Midgard, librarianship is more of a science, here it's more of an art,'' she explained. ''Being a keeper of knowledge is a sacred thing. You need to really think about what you want to find, and you will be given the answers you seek, if you are worthy. If you need any help, call for me.'' Then she walked away, leaving Darcy alone to search the shelves. Deciding to take the librarian's advice, she stood utterly still for a moment and closed her eyes. The trouble was, she wasn't even sure what she was looking for, so she simply concentrated on what was happening on Earth, letting memories of the Restored Ones, the Palace of Souls, and the Reckoner flood her mind. After remaining in a semi-meditative state for a few minutes and feeling rather silly, Darcy opened her eyes and reached out her hand. Feeling herself drawn to the end of one of the long stacks by the window, she found there another very large and very old book, bound in blue and gold.

''A Guide to Midgardian Mythology,'' she read the title, and then pulled it down. Surprisingly, the book did not seem to contain stories with which she was at all familiar. They also were not classified in any kind of cultural way, no Greek myths or Celtic or Egyptian, they were all strange tales simply lumped under the heading of 'Midgardian.' ''Where are they _getting_ this stuff from?'' Darcy wondered as she flipped through the pages. One story was called ''The Lonely Ghosts,'' and another was ''The Sky Tower.'' Beside that particular tale was an illustration in lines like an old woodcutting, one that looked uncomfortably like the Palace of Souls. Deciding to take it with her to read later, she closed the book with a loud snap that echoed. As she moved down the hallway, Darcy once again noticed the young woman who had bowed to her shortly after she'd arrived. The woman's pale blue eyes followed her, those eyes suddenly made her young face seem much older, as if a mask was slipping out of place. But perhaps it was a trick of the light.

It was getting later in the day, Darcy realised as she returned to their room; she'd been in the library for hours and she could feel it, her legs were sore from the way that she'd been sitting on the floor. As she set the curious book of mythology down on the night stand beside the bed, she reminded herself to bring a cushion along with her the next time.

Figuring that a nice bath would ease her tense muscles, she headed into the ridiculously spacious bathroom that connected to their room. She stayed wrapped in a robe as water gushed from spouts and filled the large marble tub set into the floor. It was big enough for several people to fit in, and she'd dubbed it the 'orgy tub' after she'd seen it for the first time. Loki assured her that was simply a standard design, not to imply that such activities were a regular occurrence. She hummed while the water continued to run, its heat sending steam rising in lazy clouds through the air.

She found herself reminded of the sauna in Norway, and warmth rose beneath her skin, making it flush. Sweat beaded on her body. Sighing, she slid the robe off of her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. She could now begin to see the changes in her body, to feel them. There was a very small but distinct round bulge starting to emerge in her lower belly, it was still able to be strategically concealed with clothes, clothes that were getting tighter all the time. Her breasts had definitely gotten a little larger and were hypersensitive to touch, though not in an unpleasant way, she noticed as she cupped one experimentally in her hand. Not unpleasant at all, she thought, biting back a sigh.

Turning off the water, she slowly sank down into the tub. There was a ledge running all along the inside where she could sit and she did so, leaning back and trying to clear her mind. It was still raining, she could hear it drumming like mad. She wondered what Loki was doing at that moment. Probably locked into some boring meeting. Darcy wondered what they would be doing at this particular moment if they had never left Paris, but that was too strange and sad to ponder, so instead she let her mind pull together images and memories of their time together and before she knew it she was giving in and fantasizing. Arousal flooded her body, along with the warmth of the water, until she felt like a puddle of sensation. Darcy bit her lip, squeezing her legs together under the water. ''Why not?'' she figured. Nobody was around to see, and so she decided to indulge herself. Her hand slid down slowly until her fingers came to rest on the bud of her clit, breath hissing through her teeth at the contact. Her body was so full of crazed hormones, so ridiculously over-sensitized that this would probably not take very long. She usually didn't need to do this, Loki kept her very satisfied. He didn't mind when she did, though. He just liked to watch.

A smile slid across her lips as she conjured an image into her mind of his eyes on her, dark with arousal. ''That's it,'' she could almost hear his encouraging voice-''show me what a bad girl you are.'' Her hand had now picked up the pace, moving against herself as she leaned back further, teasing a finger gently at her opening before plunging inside. Letting out a small gasp that echoed in the room, she leaned her head back and kept up the motion, stroking in and out, picturing that wicked, hungry look that sometimes played on his face, his voice again, _show me, show me, tell me it's all for me..._

Meanwhile, on the other side of the palace in a large and rather ostentatiously furnished meeting room, Loki let the idiots around him drone on like a hive of bees and allowed his mind to wander to thoughts of Darcy, whom he wished he was beside. Or...inside. A warm feeling washed over him as he sensed her. Palpable arousal licked against his skin from head to toe as he realized immediately what she was doing at that moment. Unable to pull away from from the sensation, he sank into it, into her breath, her heat, her heartbeat. Soon, realization of the now throbbing erection between his legs jolted him back to reality, and with great regret he forced himself to focus on the dull meeting in order to get rid of the rather large problem before he wound up embarrassing himself. One of the men across the table had been going on about a small uprising that had been stopped in Svartalfheim, and the group responsible for it, who he seemed to view with great derision. ''It's a pity we can't send them to the old holding cells of Ginnungagap,'' he said jokingly, and a small ripple of laughter went around the table.

''What holding cells?'' Loki interrupted suddenly. Everyone looked over at him with uneasy curiosity. This was the first time that he'd ever spoken aloud.

''The ones on the edges of the Void,'' responded another man, one seated a few chairs away. He was thin and bat-faced, had a smarmy disposition. ''They're not in use any more. Haven't been for thousands of years.''

''How do you know?'' Loki pressed. ''Who monitors them?''

The man shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, looked away slightly as he answered. ''Nobody monitors them, there's no need. It's all dead space, utterly treacherous to get to, that's why they're no longer used.''

''But could someone access them remotely?''

The other man allowed a light smirk to cross his ugly face. ''I'm not aware of anyone with that kind of ability.''

''It seems you're not aware of a lot of things,'' Loki said, getting to his feet abruptly, thankful that there were no traces of his earlier predicament. ''If you'll all excuse me,'' he added, and then headed toward the door.

''Loki,'' Odin called after him in a warning tone.

''I've nothing else to contribute today, please do carry on,'' he spoke over his shoulder as he hurried out of the room.

Obviously, he would have liked to go and see Darcy first, but that would have to wait. Loki now had a strange and nagging feeling that he was on to something, though he wasn't quite sure what it was. Descending a long staircase, he went down into the dungeons to find the dungeon master. He was a thick doorway of a man, but remarkably soft-spoken for his position. ''I wouldn't know anything about that,'' he replied honestly when Loki asked him about the Void cells that had been mentioned. ''I've come into this post more recently. My predecessor would know more than I.''

''And where can I find him?''

The man pursed his lips. ''He lives in the old gatehouse at the eastern border of the forest. But I have to tell you, I don't know how reliable he'll be. He's very fond of his ale, if you take my meaning. He's so often in his cups that very little he says makes sense any more.''

''Thank you,'' Loki told him sincerely. The guard looked rather surprised at the politeness, and perhaps at the whole conversation in general. Loki had spent more than a few days in the dungeons under his watch before being sent back to Midgard.

The eastern border of the forest was just slightly over a mile away, on the very edges of the palace grounds. The land became a little wilder there, less manicured and well-kept, growing in its natural state. Though it had been bright earlier in the day, the sky was now darkening, not with encroaching evening but with rain clouds. Frowning up at them, Loki made his way out over the expanse of land to where he could see the heavy barrier of trees looming up ahead. Nearby the entrance to the woods, there sat a small cottage made of stone and dark wood. It was a lonely little place, but fine if you never really wanted company, he supposed. Stepping forward, he rapped on the door. After a few moments it opened to reveal a stooped, snaggletoothed fellow with a wild beard and hair to match. His glassy eyes darted shiftily from side to side.

''May I share a drink with you, old man?'' Loki asked.

''Ah, I recognize you,'' he replied with a little swaying bow. ''Come in, my lord, come in. And why, may I ask, has the dark prince of Asgard decided to grace me with his presence?'' Loki didn't like the slightly mocking tone, but he let it pass as he stepped inside the small cottage. It was dim, smelled old. His host shambled over to the cupboards and pulled out a tall bottle and a glass. He poured some of the amber colored liquid into the glass and handed it to Loki, keeping the bottle for himself. He gestured to the two chairs at the rickety little table, and they both took a seat.

Loki took a sip from the glass, biting back a wince at how strong and bitter it was. ''I was hoping to ask you about your time as dungeon master,'' he began. ''I know that you held the post for many, many years. Do you happen to know anything about old prison cells hidden on the edges of the void?''

Despite his inebriation, a shiver of recognition passed over the old man's face. ''Aye, I remember. Back then, though they'd been long abandoned, they were still under my jurisdiction, and so I had to watch over them from time to time.'' He seemed to find the memory distasteful.

''What was kept there?'' wondered Loki.

''All manner of dangerous things, whatever they felt was too dangerous to be kept within the boundaries of any one particular realm,'' he said with a shrug, taking another long sip from the bottle.

''But you were certain that they were never used during your time at that post?''

He nodded creakingly. ''My job was simply to ensure that there was no sort of...invasion through the gaps. The cells had begun to are a lot of weak spots, lots of ways in and out that can't be monitored all the time. To my knowledge nothing ever came out of there, at least not this way.''

''But did something ever go in?'' he asked slowly.

He shrugged again. ''I'd hear noises every now and then. A scratching. A scraping. That space is so old. The ear and the mind can work together to play tricks on you after awhile.''

* * *

><p>Now it was the very late afternoon and once again, like clockwork, Darcy found herself growing tired. Relaxed and quite sated from her bath, she pulled on a t-shirt and yoga pants, climbed into bed and was soon asleep. Vivid dreams found her as they always seemed to. She was walking out in a damp, chilly countryside, rain misting down lightly from the gray sky. The land ahead of her stretched out gloomily for miles. It reminded her of the moors in England, made her feel like she was in <em>Wuthering Heights.<em> Wind rang by her ears.

She felt her mouth moving. ''How do you talk to the dead?'' she asked, and the words hovered in the lonely air. ''Where do you find them?''

''_Not in the ground_,'' a foreign voice whispered in answer, passing over the land. Darcy started to walk forward, out into the gray mist, that beckoning, forlorn landscape. Then her surroundings began to pull away like a curtain, she felt the pressure of familiar hands on her shoulders. She slowly blinked and found herself on her feet, down the hallway from their room. Loki was standing in front of her, looking deeply into her eyes. He brushed the sleep-tangled hair away from her face, gently running his fingers along her cheek.

''You were sleepwalking. Are you alright?'' His voice was concerned.

''I think so,'' she replied, allowing her eyes to adjust. ''What's that sound?'' she asked. ''Rain,'' he answered. ''Lots of rain.''

Rain always tended to be a harbinger of something in their lives, and it filled both of them with a chilly uneasiness. ''Does it usually rain much here?'' she asked, unable to remember the last time it had. The weather had been typically lovely and temperate for their stay. Loki shook his head. ''Come on,'' he said, gently turning her around and leading her back down the hallway. Once they were back in the room, she sank down onto the bed and he shut the door.

''I'm still so sleepy,'' Darcy remarked, flopping and turning and burying herself in the stack of pillows. He smirked at her. ''Perhaps you wore yourself out earlier.'' She raised her head to look at him, her cheeks going a little pink. ''I didn't know that you were...listening in on that, or whatever,'' she mumbled.

He slowly came over and climbed onto the bed beside her, stretching out his long limbs. ''It wasn't my intention...I was simply thinking of you, and then I started...experiencing you. Because of the connection, any sort of emotional spike in your energy is going to resonate with me.''

''Mmmmmph,'' was all she said, as she buried her face in the pillow again. In a few minutes she was asleep once more. Loki got out of bed and paced the room thoughtfully, trying to let everything he had learned in the past few hours sink in. He knew he was on to something, his ears had perked up the minute that those cells were mentioned, and not just because at that moment he'd needed a useful distraction. Though the former dungeon master was a barmy old drunk, real fear had registered in his eyes when Loki had mentioned the cells. _A scratching. A scraping. _

Evening had now fallen, and the torches on the wall and the light from the fireplace gave a comforting warmth to the room, the rain had brought along with it a dreary chill that even Loki disliked. He looked over at Darcy and smiled, affection welling up inside of him at the sight of her curled so comfortably in his bed, hair spilling in a dark wave over the pillow, her skin faintly illuminated in the flickering light. She always did seem to glow.

He'd wanted to tell her about what he had discovered but that could wait. All of the arousal that had been left simmering in his blood returned now that they were alone. Sinking down into the chair by the window, Loki decided that turnabout was fair play, and so he let his hand slide down to palm his growing erection through his pants, then undid the front and took himself in hand. Closing his eyes, he stole away into the memory of all the sensations that he'd experienced through her earlier in the day.

Darcy found herself awakened by a warm, desirous feeling, a tingling beneath her skin and between her legs; she was oddly flushed, as if she'd been woken in the middle of a sex dream that she couldn't recall. As her sleepy eyes roved around the room she was met with a rather unexpected but not at all unwelcome sight. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the image of Loki, sprawled in the chair like a whore, legs splayed open, head tilted back, elegant hand working his cock with long, firm strokes. She didn't move for a second, just watched. The whole scene was so beautifully pornographic that she couldn't look away. Light from the torches along the wall cast him into half-shadows, a light that favoured him best. His half-closed eyelids fluttered, a low moan escaped from his throat and the sound was so erotic that Darcy was afraid her skin might catch fire. Very quietly, she wriggled out of her t-shirt and yoga pants and then slipped out of bed and crossed the room. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet and she was thankful for the fire that was burning. Outside the window, the rain still fell with its insistent drumming, down and down.

Loki knew that Darcy was awake now, and watching him. It was all part of the plan. He couldn't help but smile as she moved closer to him, and the flickering shadows made his smile wicked and delightful. His hand stilled. Darcy didn't waste any time; with a rough agility that surprised even her, she climbed on top of him, gripping a handful of his hair and pulling his head back even further so that she could look at him. Loki hissed as the fingers of her other hand wrapped around his length. ''Caught you,'' she whispered. ''I'm going to show you what I do-'' she adjusted herself and then slid on top of him-''to naughty boys like you,'' she finished, sinking down all the way onto his cock. He let out another moan at this, which spurred her on. She loved this particular position: she was thankful that chairs couldn't talk, because this one had seen quite a lot. Darcy also knew that it wasn't going to be practical soon thanks to her growing baby bump, and so she figured they should enjoy it while they still could. And enjoy it they did; she let loose the way she hadn't in some time, the words coming out of her mouth were absolutely filthy and wonderful, she practically attacked him with her mouth and body, biting and sucking at that place on his neck that she loved, leaving mark after mark. It was her turn to possess him, her turn to pull and scratch and hold him down and say _mine, mine, mine_, all mine. And Loki let her, he gave himself over to her in those moments more than he ever had before, and it made him feel alive to know that she wanted him. In being devoured, he was restored. _  
><em>


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey everyone! Happy October! Here is yet another chapter for you guys, I hope that you like it! As always, please let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p><em>Our whisper woke no clocks<em>

_We kissed and I was glad_

_At everything you did_

_Indifferent to those_

_Who sat with hostile eyes_

_In pairs on every bed,_

_Arms around each other's necks_

_Inert and vaguely sad_

**-W.H. Auden**

''It's still raining, isn't it,'' Darcy mumbled to Loki. Her eyes weren't even open yet, but she could hear the steady pounding and lashing at the windows. It sounded like there was a storm beginning; Darcy hated that sound.

''Yes,'' he replied, and she blinked and looked at him lying beside her. He always seemed comfortable in these moments when they lay in bed together before getting up and facing the day, soft and fleeting moments that belonged only to them. His hair hung in his face and he had a look of quiet near-peacefulness about him that was very attractive. Loki rolled over and stared at the ceiling for a moment, seeming to be contemplating something. He hated to bring it up, but it was necessary. The world and all its dangers was waiting just outside of the door and there was nothing that they could do about it except to face it. The rain hitting the windows sounded like the ticking of a clock, counting down to some inevitability. Loki founded himself reminded once again of that room in the abandoned hotel in Norway, the few trembling moments before Natasha knocked on the door and chaos found them once again. ''I came across a bit of interesting new information yesterday,'' he began. Darcy turned onto her side, slowly dragging herself into alertness. ''What is it?'' she asked.

''I think I may have figured out where the...beings were, where Retnick found them,'' he told her, and her eyes widened as she looked at him expectantly. ''See, that's one thing that always bothered me,'' continued Loki. ''We knew that they were coming through a portal, but where did that portal lead? What was on the other side of it? There are very old prison cells on the edges of the void, in the dead space in the gaps between the world. It's the perfect place to hide something terrible.''

''And you think that's where he found them? But who put them there in the first place? How did they do it? Can we put them back?'' She was aware that this was an awful lot of questions but she couldn't stop them once they came rushing like a torrent. Darcy couldn't help but feel struck by a bright pang of hope, it radiated all through her chest.

''I have no idea,'' he answered her honestly. ''I don't know enough about them yet. I went out to see the old dungeon master; he wasn't abundantly helpful but I could tell that he was a little frightened when I asked about them.''

''Maybe ask Odin,'' Darcy suggested, sitting up in bed and stretching her arms over her head with a yawn. ''He's the Allfather, he probably knows _all _about them,'' she joked. Loki didn't seem amused. ''Even if he does, he isn't going to tell me anything,'' he remarked stiffly.

''What makes you so _sure_?'' She asked, for what seemed like the millionth time. This was getting old. While Darcy had no great love for Odin, she was quite tired of the bad blood between him and Loki. It made her agitated to see how tense he got, and she was five minutes away from playing the 'I'm pregnant and don't you dare upset me in my delicate state' card. She wished that the two deities would just bury the hatchet, so to speak, yet she wasn't holding out much hope. The Allfather and the god of mischief were both remarkably alike in their stubbornness.

''Darcy, he knew that the Norns were planning to trap us in a mythological limbo for all of eternity, and he didn't say a damn thing about it. He will always want us to figure things out for ourselves. And if we succeed, we succeed, if we fail, we fail. It's all a test to him; he's testing our...worthiness or our fortitude or whatever. He is the Allfather, as you said. He's going to play god, because that is his _nature_.''

He sounded so bitter and resigned that Darcy was left with a bad taste in her mouth. ''You need to knock this off,'' she told him firmly, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at him with a stern expression. ''I understand how you feel, I really do. But you have a _nature_ too. So...embrace it. Don't let Odin push you around. I know you think its the opposite, but every time that you stay silent, you are giving him _more_ power over you. Show him who you are.''

Loki narrowed his eyes. ''He already _knows_, that's the trouble. He's already seen it.''

She wanted to shake him for falling back into this line of thinking that she'd worked so hard to dismantle. ''That's not who you are. You're not a villain, or a monster. That's just what you hide behind.'' Darcy was almost perversely glad that she had no family of her own left to cause added emotional strain in their lives. She wondered if they had therapists on Asgard, and then realized that she was the closest thing to a therapist that Loki was ever going to have. That level of understanding was a heavy burden, but she still wouldn't trade it for anything. Even if it did drive _her_ crazy sometimes.

''Sometimes I wonder...'' he said, then trailed off and was quiet and moody for several minutes. The conversation seemed to have made him uncomfortable.

''Feeling is so damnably unpleasant, and wanting is even worse,'' he declared suddenly. ''Numbness, numbness is what we should strive towards.''

''Stop being so dramatic. You don't mean that,'' Darcy said, her mouth tilted in a way that was half-smile, half-frown.

He paused a moment and then raised his head to look at her. ''Of course I don't. Not really. But it_ is_ ghastly, you must admit.'' He almost smiled back.

''So is numbness, after awhile,'' she replied. ''Let's face it, we are always going to be facing obstacles, we can't hide from them. And accepting that may give us a little peace.''

He gave her a softly amused look.''I don't think peace likes us very much. It never seems to want to stay. Chaos, on the other hand, is quite enamoured of us.''

Darcy was growing rather tired of the conversation. Now she wanted to crawl back under the covers with a bag of Cheetos and pretend that the only thing that she needed to worry about was when the new season of _Hannibal _was going to start. ''Let's think about something pleasant,'' she said, laying back down beside Loki. He reached over for her, resting his hand against her belly. This seemed to calm him.

''Alright,'' he said, searching his mind for pleasantness. ''Hmmm...how about the train in France?''

Ah, the train. Darcy had almost forgotten about that little adventure. They'd had their own private compartment. She'd worn a stunning red dress and no underwear. The slight rocking, rattling motion of the journey had leant something very exciting to the experience, when she'd climbed on top of him. There was beautiful scenery flying by outside the windows, but what it looked like, she couldn't remember, she could only recall the sound of hard breathing, whispers, the feel of teeth and fingers against her skin and the up and down up and down. It had been a good day.

''Some day, I swear, when we go back to France, I will appreciate the culture more,'' she said with a light laugh. ''We'll visit important historical sights.''

''We did visit important historical sights, many of them,'' he reminded her.

''Yes, but we wound up having discreet sex at most of them. I will never be able to picture Versailles quite the same again.'' Darcy smiled, and looked over to see that Loki was smiling too, all of the earlier tension thankful forgotten for the moment.

''I only have one ghastly meeting to sit in on today, and it shouldn't take too long,'' he said. ''We can spend the rest of the day together.''

She smiled at the prospect. They had been forced to spend so much time away from each other lately, Darcy was delighted at the idea that she and Loki could have some uninterrupted hours.

* * *

><p>While Loki was gone, she decided to take a look at the stories in that mythology book, the one that was still sitting on her bedside table. The text was all in runes, and the paper was yellowed with age. Darcy wondered how old it was, how long it had been sitting on that shelf, waiting for a chance to be useful. She settled into the infamous chair by the window and cracked the book open to one of the first stories. ''The Lonely Ghosts,'' she whispered the title out loud and then started to read.<p>

_In the beginning, spirits roamed the land of Midgard. They lived in the ground, in the trees; they drifted like shadows, formless, over the barren world. They watched as the humans came into being, and they were enamoured of them. The spirits reached out, called to the beautiful new creatures, tried to speak to them through nature, through the water and the trees. But the humans could not see them, and could not understand their words. And so, the ghosts grew bitter and restless. Their desire to reach out to the humans, to touch them, became an obsession. _

_One day, just as the seasons had begun to change, a young maiden went walking in the forest. She sang as she walked, and her voice carried on the wind. A very old, very lonely ghost lurked behind its tree, watching her. Her beauty, her solid-ness was too much for him to bear. He knew that he couldn't let her leave. He sang out with his own song of longing, and it made tears well in her eyes, made her aware of an emptiness inside of her, filling her with a desire for something that she couldn't name. She turned around and when she did so he reached out and clutched at her, pulling her closer to him, until his spirit lived within her._

''Well, that does sound...familiar,'' Darcy mumbled to herself with a slight shiver, flipping to the next story, ''The Sky Tower.''

_The old gods were the next to appear, emerging out of a tunnel of light. They were visitors, confused. Where they landed, they found that something was already there, an ancient presence. He wore the skin of a man, but wasn't one. He could steal the form of a human, in order to walk among them undetected. He was the most powerful and frightening of all the lonely ghosts. He promised the visitors that one day he would help them return to their world, if in exchange they agreed to help him. They accepted, and so he ordered them to build the largest tower on Midgard, a building of incredible height and width, a palace unlike any that had ever existed in any world, one that could move from place to place, getting larger and stronger each time it traveled, and vanish from sight at will. They did as he requested, and as the years passed, he and his workers and the sky tower moved from place to place, and made deals with the people there. If they needed rain, he sent rain. If they needed crops, crops grew. But then he collected the offerings that he was promised, as payment of his debt. People would always warn their children not to go wandering in the woods. Because every so often, there came time for a reckoning._

''The more you know,'' she muttered, trying to shake off the chill that had suddenly settled in the room. ''Bedtime stories we never heard.'' She closed the book quickly, as if she were afraid that something was going to come crawling out of the pages. Then she stood and left the room, suddenly needing to walk somewhere, anywhere. Darcy needed to process everything that she'd just read, and its implications. The rain had slowed minutely, now it was falling lightly and leaving shiny droplets on the large windows in the hallway. There wasn't too much foot traffic through the palace at this time of the day, and Darcy felt abruptly lonely and small, like the ceiling had raised itself and grown too high. She continued walking, and her footsteps echoed in that alarmingly loud way they did whenever she was alone. In the shadows, something moved. It was that servant girl again, crouched on the marble floor, scrub brush in hand, watching with her too-blue eyes. She glanced away quickly and Darcy frowned, trying to shake off the nagging wave of uneasiness that was slowly breaking against the walls of her mind.

Frigga, who had been quietly standing in the alcove at the end of the hall, also noticed the young woman staring, and her eyes narrowed a bit. ''Darcy,'' she called, motioning her over. ''There you are, my dear. Let's have a walk and talk for awhile.'' Grateful for the company, Darcy followed along after the Queen, who cast a small glance over her shoulder as they departed, seeing the girl still there among the shadows, a dark frown twisting around her mouth.

''How are you feeling?'' Frigga asked, turning back to Darcy with a smile.

''I'm feeling pretty good,'' she replied. ''I haven't really been too nauseas, except for that first day. I'm just incredibly tired.''

''That will certainly happen,'' nodded the Queen. ''Has Asgard been treating you well so far? I know that you've been spending a lot of time in the library.''

''Yeah, I've just been drawn there,'' admitted Darcy. ''It makes me feel...like I'm helping, somehow.''

Frigga smiled again, in that wise, gentle way she had. ''Have you found anything useful?''

Darcy shrugged, trying not to dwell on the chilling familiarity of the stories she'd read earlier in the day. ''I don't know,'' she replied honestly. ''I don't even know what I'm looking for. This whole thing is such a convoluted mess.''

''It certainly _appears_ that way,'' the Queen agreed.

''Magic and secret mythology...'' With a shake of her head, Darcy said, ''You know, before Thor got banished to Earth, I never gave this stuff any real thought. And now it's my reality. It is amazing how much you can change in a relatively short amount of time.''

''How much do you know about magic?'' asked Frigga, after considering this last statement. ''What has Loki taught you?''

Thinking about it, Darcy replied, ''Well, I can do some defensive spells, some protective magic. I can also do glamours, change my appearance a little.''

''Defensive magic is easy, but hard to get precise,'' the Queen stated. ''After all, any Midgardian can fire a gun, but being proficient at it requires practice and an understanding of how the mechanism actually works. Likewise, to become adept at magic, you must first understand it. You're a _sponge_, my dear,'' she added with a teasing smile.

Darcy pretended to take offence. ''A what?''

''A sponge. You absorb information so very well, you have an amazing natural aptitude for it. But that doesn't mean that you completely understand everything that you absorb. Sometimes, there is far too much knowledge running through you, scattered and haphazard. You're a talented channel, but that is not the extent of your gifts. Let me help you learn, let me teach you the way that I taught Loki.''

''Thank you, but,'' Darcy considered the generous offer, ''do you think that it will do any good?'' Frigga nodded. ''I do. Trust me.''

* * *

><p>Darcy followed along as the Queen led her to some unknown destination. Frigga glanced out the windows.''Such rain. But perhaps it is needed,'' she sighed, then added, ''We should look to the elements more, to the land. It's been here so much longer than we have. Often signs will come to us through nature, as if there is a great intelligence that speaks in a language completely its own.''<p>

''What's the big deal with the trees?'' she asked as they walked together, Frigga's words making Darcy think of her most recent dream, and also Ethan Montauk, for some reason, who always seemed to be in a battle with nature, trying to make things grow on cursed land. ''They must be important somehow.''

''Well, they're _old_, for starters. They've seen a good deal. They hold many memories. And if you listen closely enough, go quiet enough, you can ask them to tell you.'' She smiled knowingly.

Soon, after many minutes of walking they arrived at a place Darcy never seen before, a beautiful greenhouse all the way on the other side of the palace. It seemed to go on for miles. She found herself stifling a small gasp at how large the space was. It smelled wonderful, like rich earth and oxygen. ''We keep a good deal of specimens here, ones from nearly all the realms, for purposes of study and preservation. Some of the samples that we have date back before recorded history, and we simply don't know how old they are. Trees can teach us so much about time. They keep their own records. It's a shame that they must be so silent.'' Frigga handed Darcy a small branch with oval shaped leaves that were the most exquisite shade of green, and almost iridescent in the light. The color reminded her a little of Loki's eyes. She found herself straying into a wishful daydream, hoping that the baby would have eyes like that.

''Everything has an energy to it,'' continued the Queen, pulling Darcy back to the moment and the task at hand. ''Plants have their own unique consciousness. It's different from ours, of course, but no less valid. Hold this. Listen quietly. See what it can tell you.''

Reaching out with her mind, Darcy listened. She could feel it flowing beneath the bark, it was an energy, a humming. This particular branch wasn't from Asgard or Midgard, it was from some other realm, a little further. Light music on the air. An ancient, lilting song, lots of color and whispers, delicate yet firm. It was old, taken from a tree that no longer stood. The _knowing_ flooded over her skin like water. ''It's from Alfheim,'' she said with a certainty that surprised even her. ''The tree isn't there anymore, but...there used to be music all around it. They used to celebrate, drink and dance under the branches.'' Images flowed and pulsed through her. She could almost smell the air, so long ago.

Frigga gave her a wide smile. ''Very good, Darcy!'' Darcy blushed a little and shrugged. ''Some things do seem to come easy to me for some reason,'' she confessed. She fidgeted, wanting very much to ask a question but unsure if she should. The Queen perhaps knew this, because she tilted her head to the side and seemed to be waiting. She raised an eyebrow encouragingly. ''What is it, dear?''

''Do you know what the Well is?'' Darcy ventured.

The Queen was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, then she replied. ''It's a very powerful, primitive force, containing many mysteries. A storehouse of knowledge. The very fact that you are able to channel it is an auspicious sign. It gives me great hope.''

''You know about that?'' Darcy asked, though really, she was hardly surprised.

Frigga nodded. ''I've known since the first time. The runes burning into your skin. You must have been so frightened,'' she added softly, a kind sadness dwelling in the corners of her eyes. ''One thing I have always admired about you, my dear, is your bravery. You will need it in the coming weeks.''

* * *

><p>Now it was the beginnings of afternoon and the sky had darkened again with angry rain clouds after a few hours of reprieve from the deluge. Darcy was waiting for Loki to finish with his tasks for the day, and so she was hanging around in the great hall, lingering by the bright warmth of the fire, watching the dancing flames. They made her feel oddly comforted. ''My wife tells me that you have an interest in trees,'' came a voice from behind her, the very distinct voice of the Allfather. He crossed the room and came to stand next to her. ''She says that you have quite the talent with plants, among other things. I know something about trees myself. I was hung from the branches of the world tree for nine days. Nine days of near-unendurable suffering.'' The firelight reflected in his blue eye as he spoke. ''But with that suffering, there came clarity. And wisdom. I had finally been given the knowledge that I sought, but only after I'd earned it.'' He looked away from the flames and over at her.<p>

''Why does 'earning it' always seem to have to be so painful in this world?'' Darcy asked. Her voice sounded heavy, seemed to hang in the air.

Odin shrugged. ''It's painful in every world, child. As I once told you, as you learned, nothing comes free. So many from your world come seeking wisdom, answers. Or simply seeking _us_, desperate to know if we are really there, or just a myth, a figment. Sometimes...they find themselves wishing that they had never come questing, that they had simply been content with not knowing. You are very unlike any person I've come across,'' he added suddenly, though not necessarily sounding impressed, just stating a fact. ''Very unique. Especially now.''

''I'm not going to beg you to help us,'' she told him matter-of-factly.

''Good,'' Odin replied, almost smiling. He reached out and patted Darcy on the shoulder, something remarkably close to affection in the gesture. ''I hate begging.'' Then he walked away without another word.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, two guards brought the blue-eyed young servant girl into the throne room. She regarded the kind and queen with a quiet scowl. While Odin remained seated and silent, Frigga stood, seeming so much more imposing than she typically did, radiating with the terrifying majesty of a goddess. She glared down at the girl. ''I do not take kindly to intruders in my midst. I have quite a good memory for faces, and I must admit, I don't recall seeing yours, at least not until recently. Where did you come from?''<p>

The girl said nothing, her lips set in a tight line. ''What is your purpose here?'' the Queen asked.

Again, nothing. ''You don't have to say a word, I can assure you, I can find this information inside of your mind, but it would be far more beneficial and painless for you to simply tell me. I do not like the thought of those I loved being threatened in any way. So I will ask you one more time: what are you doing here?''

Her breath came in a dry, rough hiss, like sandpaper. ''I am one of many. I came from the woods.'' She stood, raised up her arms. ''More will come after me, when I am gone. We know the secret ways. We know what is hiding here.'' She erupted into a pile of ash, in a horrifying sort of self-implosion.

Frigga turned to her husband. ''See,'' she said pointedly. ''You cannot ignore this any longer.''

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

A shadow had fallen over the world, making everything wild, a darker version of its former self. Like an old graveyard, all grown over and covered in weeds, names obscured on the weathered tombstones. Containing the 'infected' had not been as easy a task as Steve Rogers and the others had hoped, the transformations were occurring so rapidly that they could barely keep up. The national guard had arrived, and at least half of them were now in the process of becoming Vessels themselves. Their weapons fell discarded to the ground, they would have no need of them anymore. They were now predators who needed no extra aid in catching their prey.

From the roof of a nearby building, through her black-stained mouth, Penelope smiled down at the chaos. ''At last,'' she whispered, eagerly rubbing her bony hands together. She glanced over at the Reckoner, who stood beside her. He seemed quite pleased with what was unfolding below. His form was now less gawky than before; he was no longer quite so tall and thin and scarecrow-like, he had brown hair and hazel eyes, a face that was probably attractive with its previous owner behind it. But now that unfortunate young man was no more, and so his expression now held a distinct dark malice.

''At last,'' he agreed.

''You're looking...fresh today,'' she told him, scrutinizing his new appearance with approval. ''I feel quite new,'' he admitted. ''I always did love the feeling of slipping on a skin for the first time. There are so many nuances in these people, yet they take their bodies for granted.''

''_We_ certainly appreciate them, though,'' said Penelope, inspecting the long, unkempt fingernails of her hand.

''Yes, we certainly do,'' agreed the Reckoner.

''I heard that there was a bit of a malfunction in your Palace. Two of the patients escaped,'' she noted in a conversational tone.

His lips set down in a line. ''It was regrettable, but nothing that cannot be fixed.''

''Have you found them yet?'' she asked, giving him a sideways look.

''Not yet,'' he replied. ''But I'm not worried. I have my spies in nearly every world. There isn't any place for them to hide.''

''What will you do when you find them?'' Penelope's eyes lit up with macabre interest.

He simply smiled.


	25. Chapter 25

**Hey everyone! Sorry it took me so long to update: here is an extra-long chapter for you to make up for it! I love you guys!**

* * *

><p><em>Omnia mutantur, nihil interit<em>

_Everything changes, nothing perishes_

**-Ovid**

* * *

><p>'<em>'You cannot ignore this any longer<em>.''

Silently, the Allfather contemplated the pile of ash on the floor for several long moments, his expression unchanging.''We have no quarrel with their kind,'' he finally said.

''They breached our walls. They are threatening your family!'' Frigga crossed her arms and glared at him sternly. ''You need to stop this. Stop pretending that you don't care.''

''I _care_,'' he said, in a tone that indicated he was loathe to admit it. ''But coddling them won't do any good. They need to be strong for what's coming, and Loki is strongest when he's angry, when he feels like he has something to prove.''

Frigga shook her head, seeming to disagree with this. ''Perhaps you really don't know him at all,'' she said softly.

Choosing to ignore that last statement, Odin continued,''We'll double the guard, watch all the known exits and entrances. Meanwhile, continue to help the girl develop her talents, they'll be useful. We'll keep silent about...this for the time being,'' he added, casting one last glance down to the floor.

''You don't want to tell them?'' The Queen raised an eyebrow.

Odin waved a hand dismissively.''They already know they're in danger. Best to not upset them any further until its absolutely necessary. If she was right, and more of these things come, we will be ready for them. And if it comes to war, then so be it. But not today.'' He got up from his throne.

**Norway**

Heid sat across from Natasha at a small table in the kitchen area of the outpost, cups of tea in front of them as the old woman began to tell the Black Widow part of an old story. ''We were always told not to linger too long in the woods, because that was their dwelling place,'' she started. ''_The trees have eyes_, that was what the elders used to warn us. One day, a young girl from the village disappeared. She returned a day later, but she was changed, speaking in strange tongues, eyes looking into darkness. Soon, others were lured to the trees, walking with purpose, as if they needed to find something. And when they came back, they were the same as she: changed, marked with their curse.'' Heid shook her head as she continued, ''They would spread through villages like wildfire, calling out with their ensnaring song, changing whomever they touched. We would do anything to keep them at bay, charms in the windows, bindrunes on the doors. There was even talk of burning down the forest—but none could bring themselves to go through with that. After a long struggle, and with the gods on our side, we managed to cast them out. But it was at great cost. We trapped them in an empty space, along the edges of the Void between the worlds, and that is where they remained. Lord Walters had very dark power on _his_ side, and he managed to find them and begin the process of freeing them from their prison.''

The seer had spoken as if she'd actually been there, and something in her deep eyes had certainly seemed to be recollecting. ''By _we, _you're referring to your ancestors, right?'' said the Black Widow. ''This was all a story that was passed down to you?''

Heid simply smiled in reply.

''This...empty space, this prison...does it still exist?'' Natasha asked, her mind whirring. ''Could we put them back?''

The seer frowned now. ''I have no way of knowing if it would work a second time. The space has become compromised, especially after so many years.''

''Is there another...empty space that we could use?'' The assassin took a sip of her tea. It was bitter. She set the cup down, gently pushed it away from herself.

''Not like that one,'' Heid answered, shaking her head. ''The edges have all crumbled now, succumbed to the Void.''

''But how?'' Natasha almost pleaded, leaning closer. ''How did you cast them out?''

''With words. And with sheer force of will. Two of the most important tools in magic.''

The Black Widow opened her mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted when Prudence came into the room. ''Agent Romanov, there's a call for you.''

Natasha walked into one of the large labs several minutes later, looking perplexed and tired. ''I just got a call from a doctor at the clinic in Syracuse. Olivia Ebert is missing.''

''Who?'' Bruce Banner asked, glancing up from the computer where he was working.

''Olivia Ebert, she was trapped in the vortex created by the Palace of Souls. Spent over thirty years wandering in the woods, never aging.''

''Sounds like a horrible faery tale,'' the scientist commented.

''Isn't that what all of this is?'' Natasha said with a ragged shrug. ''Somebody make some damn coffee, its going to be a long day. And a dark one,'' she added, looking out the window with disdain.

* * *

><p><strong>Asgard, some time later<strong>

Darcy was now nearly five months pregnant, and having a problem: she could no longer zip up her jeans, at all. Not an inch. In fact, she could just barely get them over her hips. Sighing in defeat, she pulled on her yoga pants again. Soon, she was probably going to have to start wearing dresses. Unless she could create something, she realized. Concentrating, Darcy stood still and envisioned the outfit that she wanted. Comfortable, but not something that screamed 'maternity wear', which she shuddered at the idea of. That term called to mind an old photo of her mother, heavily pregnant and wearing a truly ghastly pastel-coloured romper that could only have been passable in the 80s.

She and Loki were going to see Eir in a few minutes. The Healer had said that this time they would be able to find out if she was going to have a girl or boy. The last several weeks on Asgard had flown by. And they'd been quite interesting. Darcy spent a few hours each day with Frigga, usually while Loki was working. The Queen was an excellent teacher, she could put very esoteric concepts in a way that made them seem accessible and almost easy to understand.

She'd started off the lessons by teaching Darcy the very basics of all magic, energy and intent. Energy needed to be raised, channelled and directed; intent told the energy where to go. All of the other tools were secondary to those two things. Sometimes, Frigga had explained, magic either seemed to backfire drastically or simply not work at all because the practitioner hadn't been entirely honest with him or herself about their intent. ''It is very easy for us to lie to ourselves at times,'' the Queen had told her. ''But the truth always finds its way out between the cracks, sometimes gently, sometimes explosively. We come to a point where we finally acknowledge it, and then the energy will flow appropriately. Anyone can learn _tricks_, Darcy, but in order to fully master magic, you must first know yourself.'' She paused and smiled, though the look held some sadness. ''That's the reason why Loki, talented though he is, still has not managed to tap into the full extent of his power.''

Darcy had nodded as she toyed with the stem of one of the plant specimens on the table in front of her. ''The thing is, he thinks that he does know himself. But the image that he sees...it's not him.''

Frigga seemed to agree with this. ''Perhaps in a way, though, he wants it to be,'' she remarked. ''He hates and loves the image of the monster, the one that he hides behind. Hates it because it is a hateful thing, but loves it also because on some level he feels safer when he is feared. However, he trusts you and loves you so because he doesn't have to hide from you, or pretend, he can simply exist. You are the balancing force in him.''

And he was the balancing force in her. Without him, she wouldn't be nearly as strong. She wouldn't know all the mysterious, fascinating and sometimes terrifying possibilities that existed in the universe. She wouldn't know herself. ''Is intent like desire?'' Darcy asked, returning to the lesson at hand. ''Lugh Retnick and the Reckoner, they would insist that everybody wants something. That's what would make the change happen.''

''Yes and no,'' the Queen replied. ''You certainly have to want something before you can set a plan in motion to get it. However, once again, sometimes people become confused as to what it is that they actually want. For example, someone might believe that they desire to be in a position of power. Yet if they were to go deeper and truly examine their motivations for seeking that power, they might find that it wasn't really that which they were desiring the whole time. Perhaps they were truly seeking...acceptance. Or acknowledgement.''

''Or love,'' added Darcy.

''Yes, or love. But if you don't know for sure, and all you feel is that _want_, without direction, then you can be easily misled into making the wrong choices. There is an inherent vulnerability that comes with desiring something very badly. And sometimes, other forces take advantage of that vulnerability.''

''Like what happened with Loki.''

Frigga nodded. ''And like what is happening now on Midgard. It's a terrible manipulation, one that cuts to the very core.''

The conversation made Darcy think of something. ''There's this old story back home, it's a famous cautionary tale called 'The Monkey's Paw.' This guy gets a magical severed monkey hand that grants wishes. It's disgusting, I know, but anyhow, every wish that he makes backfires horribly. Then his son dies, and the poor dude is grieving so hard that he wishes for his son to come back to life. The monkey paw grants his wish...you can probably figure out that it doesn't turn out very well.''

The Queen made a face. ''A very good cautionary tale, indeed,'' she said. ''And a good illustration of this lesson: Know what it is that you really want. Find that by knowing yourself, as well as the boundaries of nature.''

* * *

><p>They were at the halfway point, after weeks had turned into months. Loki stood beside Darcy in the Healing Chamber, a mixture of nervousness and excitement radiating from him in waves, though outwardly he kept his expression calm. Eir got out one of her instruments, swept it over Darcy. There was a sudden sound in the room, a small steady thudding noise that echoed. ''There's the heartbeat,'' she said to them. A surprised smile lit up Darcy's face. ''Wow,'' she said, listening closely. Though he didn't tell her, Loki had already heard it. He'd been able to hear it since the first time it was detectable. Darcy's heartbeat, like rain falling onto water, and the baby's, so very soft at first, like leaves fluttering to earth. Sometimes he lay awake at night and listened to those two heartbeats, letting them lull him into a trance. It was the most beautiful, most comforting sound he'd ever heard. ''Do you want to know?'' Eir asked, a smile hovering around her lips. He looked at Darcy, who nodded, and then back to the Healer. ''Yes,'' he said.<p>

She grinned at both of them. ''It's a girl,'' she announced. Loki smiled so widely that Darcy's heart felt squeezed. ''I knew it,'' he said proudly.

They walked back together. As they left the Healing Chambers, she slid her hand through his and held it. The simple gesture made Loki feel remarkably warm.''Well, you were right, as usual,'' Darcy said, rolling her eyes. She kept smiling stupidly, just to keep the flood of emotion dialed back. ''Did you pick out a name?'' she wondered.

He shook his head. ''Not yet. I'm still deciding. It has to be perfect.''

''Alright. I trust you,'' she replied, though lately she'd been wondering what he would choose. Hopefully not some Old Norse name that nobody back home would know how to pronounce.

''I like your clothes,'' he told her with a playful grin, plucking at the fabric of her sleeve. ''You did an excellent job, I would only suggest a few slight alterations.''

''Oh? Such as?''

A shiver of energy pulsed over her torso and Darcy looked down to see that the neckline of her shirt had been drastically lowered, and the fabric now clung to her more tightly than before. She rolled her eyes at the change. ''Ah, no, I don't think so.''

''You look lovely,'' he insisted.

''I look ridiculous, change it back please.''

He relented. ''Alright,'' Loki sighed, and then her shirt returned to its original appearance. ''Not going to let me have any fun, are you?''

''You're going to have plenty of fun, don't worry,'' retorted Darcy. Truth be told, she had been slightly distressed by the changes in her body, which were now impossible to ignore. Thankfully, though, he didn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

As they arrived at their room, she added, ''If you feel so strongly about the shirt, I'll take it off, would that be fun enough for you?''

''It's a good start,'' he answered with a smile, and then they stepped inside and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Among a myriad of other things, Darcy had been thinking about the past a good deal. Her hours spent in the greenhouse with the plants and trees had taught her that everything had a story to tell. And it was one thing to read someone else's account of events, but quite another to see them for herself. The plants didn't lie. They didn't have an agenda. Only memories. People were more unreliable, because their accounts of events seemed to always conveniently suit their own purpose. It was like that old Kurosawa film, <em>Rashomon. <em>No two people ever remembered anything exactly the same way. Darcy also found herself wondering about Helen, the missing pieces of her sad life, before it ended in Paris. What had she really seen, all those years spent in that huge house, with her father endlessly dabbling in the dark arts? And also, who was Joe Haven, the man she had loved until her final moments? Darcy's only experience of him was from other people's accounts, and a face in a photograph. He was...missing, his voice absent. Yet apparently he'd played a very important role in the entire series of events, this chain reaction that was still occurring.

It was the next morning now, and Loki was already gone; he'd left grumbling about a meeting with some architect. Darcy hadn't really been able to sleep, and so she got up and sat by the window, studying one of the books on herb lore that she'd been given. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she caught a slight flutter of movement. Then she jumped as a ghostly figure appeared out of the thin gray air, her hands came down protectively around her belly and the book fell to the floor. Darcy squinted as he came into clearer view: it was Ethan Montauk, standing among the shadows, with that same grim half-smile that he'd always worn in life. ''You're dead,'' she said, stating the obvious as her heart slowed.

''In a manner of speaking,'' he replied dryly.

Darcy tried not to think of the last time she'd seen him, his lifeless body sprawled in the garden. She hated remembering that night, when the gates had opened and horror had come screaming hungrily into the world. She drew in a deep breath, the baby kicked with a flutter inside of her. ''It's ironic that you showed up. I was just thinking earlier that I wish I could talk to Joe Haven,'' she remarked. ''You wouldn't by chance know where to find him, would you?''

Ethan gave her a tired, crooked look. ''No. I haven't any idea. The dead aren't _networked_,'' he told her with a sigh. ''Not everything dies the same way. And much of the time, we are just as confused as you, probably more. Death doesn't really get you anywhere.''

''Helen said the same thing to me once,'' Darcy remembered.

Ethan raised his eyebrows. ''Helen?'' he echoed strangely. There was a look on his face that she couldn't quite describe. Darcy nodded slowly. ''Yeah. Helen Walters. Joe's fiancee.''

''I know who she is, how do _you_ know her?'' he asked breathlessly.

Darcy couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. ''She's haunting my apartment in Paris.''

He blinked, looking rather startled as he digested this information. She watched the faint grey column of his throat move as he swallowed. After a moment of silence, he said, ''I had rather hoped it would just...end. But no. But no.'' Ethan sighed and cast a hesitant glance towards the window, where the light was just beginning to filter in more strongly now. ''I do miss the feel of the sun. I can't feel it anymore, can't really look at it. It doesn't look the same. Now it's cold, garish and frightening. Lucy, everything is altered. Like an old photo negative. _Looking through a glass darkly, _I always liked that expression, but I never completely understood it until now. That's what it's like.''

She almost felt sorry for him. There was something so intensely tragic about Ethan, it made her rather sad. ''Lucy isn't my real name,'' she confessed.

Ethan smiled. ''I know it isn't. But I think I'll keep using it all the same, if you don't mind.''

Darcy let herself smile back, just a little. ''I don't mind.'' Deciding to take advantage of this rare and unexpected opportunity, she took a deep breath and said ''Ethan, I need you to tell me who the Reckoner is. Tell me the real story. You have nothing to lose now, and you know it.'' He seemed to agree with her, because after a moment or two of contemplation, he began to answer.

''He's what they used to call a lonely ghost...I'm trying to think of a better word for what they actually are...a wight, I suppose? A very primitive and powerful spirit of the land. One of the first, possibly _the _first of them, one who has remained, retreating into the woods. He ventured out from time to time over the centuries, when he grew restless. He moved his Palace from place to place, collecting. He's been in America for several hundred years, but he was in many other parts of the world before that.''

''That song,'' Darcy said, suddenly recalling the vastly irritating and eerie tune that seemed to colour the walls of this mystery. ''Johnny's so long at the fair. It's significant somehow.''

Ethan nodded. ''It's a very old English folk song, found its way to the new colonies around the time of the Revolutionary war. Incidentally, this is where the Palace of Souls has been since the late 16th century. There was a debt to be collected at Roanoke, apparently, in exchange for safe passage across the sea to the 'new world'. Among other things, the Reckoner has power over the elements.''

Darcy's mouth dropped open. ''So _that's_ what happened to them.''

He nodded again. ''They weren't his only well-known victims. Remember the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin?''

''Uh, yeah, it was that really creepy story about the guy who played a song and led all the children away into some kind of secret cave...oh god, that was him, wasn't it?'' She put her hand over her mouth as she realized this.

''Anyhow,'' Ethan continued, ''he made his way to Connecticut some years after vanishing the colony, as more and more people started to arrive in the new world and build—lots of old money there, _lots _of dabbling, lots of wanting to live forever. He practically had a feast. And that's where Lugh and I found him. We had to go to him; the Reckoner can travel but the Palace cannot, not anymore. It's stalled there in those woods, has been for hundreds of years.''

''So he couldn't go looking for victims anymore...you had to bring them to him.''

Ethan nodded slowly. ''And thus, Restoration was begun.''

More hidden histories. How much they still had yet to learn. ''How did you find me here?'' Darcy asked, after a moment of deep and vast silence, death and so much life in the same space, so far from home.

He looked even more tired now, the edges of his spectral aura were fraying like old cloth. ''I don't even know where 'here' is,'' he admitted. ''And really, it doesn't matter to me in the slightest anymore. Nearly every place looks the same, from my vantage point,'' he spoke grimly. ''But I thought I heard a familiar voice, and there you were.'' His outline was growing fainter now. ''It's always nice to hear a familiar voice,'' he added, and his was dropping to a whisper, then away to nothing as he vanished completely from sight.

There were tears on her face, she realised. The baby kicked again. Darcy managed to concentrate enough to create some clothes to wear, which was difficult because her mind was buzzing. One of the sleeves of her shirt was probably a little too long, but she didn't care. She hurried out of the room and down the long corridor to the hall, where she sat in front of the fire, thinking and waiting, trying to absorb warmth into her chilled bones. Several minutes later, Loki entered the room. He'd excused himself from a dull meeting with one of the builders who needed to expand his budget for renovations. The man had made absolutely no progress whatsoever and his main efforts seemed to be put forth in complaining about how everyone else in the realm was responsible for the delay.

''Are you alright?'' he asked Darcy, spotting her sitting by the fireplace. ''You look...''

''Like I've seen a ghost?'' she supplied. ''Yeah, because I did. Ethan Montauk paid me a little visit, just a few minutes ago.''

''Ethan Montauk? The gardener from Retnick's house?'' Loki's eyebrows went up.

''That's the one. It was a weird conversation. I asked him to tell me more about the Reckoner, and he said that he's a 'lonely ghost,' like in that story, but he also called him a 'wight.' Said that he's been around since the beginning of time, yadda yadda, but that he's been in America since the late 16th century. The Palace is stalled there, he can move, but it can't. He has power over the elements and makes deals with people, like a crossroads demon or something.''

''A crossroads demon?''

''Yeah, like on _Supernatural. _Try to keep up. Anyhow, he gives people what they want, whether it's crops or rain or a safe journey across the ocean...and then eventually he comes and collects his debt.''

''The souls.''

''Exactly. He whisks them away to his Palace, and they're never seen again. And we know why. I guess eventually he decided to stop freelancing and went into the cult business with Ethan and Retnick. They set up shop in Connecticut and they've been there ever since.''

''If only...'' Loki began. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something, Darcy could see the sudden spark of illumination behind his eyes that usually came with insight. He started to pace a bit.

''I hadn't considered it before,'' he mumbled thoughtfully, almost to himself. ''But it might work.''

''What might?'' she asked, watching him, the motion making her nearly dizzy as she followed him with her eyes.

He paused and looked at her. ''Ghosts are unreliable, almost as much as the living. _We_ need to go back, to journey into the past. We need to see for ourselves exactly what happened on the night of that party in 1946, the night that set all of this into motion. It might be the only way to know for sure.''

''How the hell are we supposed to do that?'' Darcy demanded. ''You got a TARDIS hidden around here somewhere?''

''Remember when we did trance journeys?'' he asked. ''You traveled into my subconscious and so on?''

''Yeah. I don't think I'll ever forget it. Why? Do you think you can...trance journey back in time?'' Darcy's voice was doubtful.

''Of course I can, theoretically. It's dangerous seidhr, though, and requires a good deal of preparation.''

''I can do it!'' she blurted. It wasn't so much that she was eager to take a treacherous walk backwards through time, she just didn't want Loki to have to put himself in any danger. It didn't occur to her at the moment that she wasn't exactly in peak condition to be faring forth.

''_No_,'' he said, aghast, looking at her as if she were mad. ''Absolutely not. I'm going. You can help me prepare, though.''

''When do you want to do this?'' she asked. ''Soon,'' he replied. ''Ask Jane and Heimdall when it will be the new moon on Midgard. I'll go then. And I think we may need some help as well.''

* * *

><p>The Queen of Asgard listened patiently as they explained Loki's idea to her, and then she gave a nod. ''It may work, and if it does, it will yield valuable insight. A caution, though: a journey of this magnitude won't be easy, even for you,'' she told him. Then she added, ''I almost wish Freya was here, she's so very adept at this sort of thing.''<p>

Loki scowled at the suggestion. ''No, you don't.''

''You never even made an effort to get along with her, you were antagonistic from the beginning. And you stole her cloak,'' Frigga added.

''I _borrowed _it,'' was Loki's muttered response.

''Well, regardless, we're just going to have to do the best we can,'' the Queen said briskly. ''Darcy, you'll be there to assist of course and perhaps Jane as well. We'll also need certain specific plants, for incense and for a potion, also, to aid in the traveling.''

''Oooh, fun,'' murmured Darcy, remembering the journey that she'd taken in Heid's cabin, aided by a weird, hallucinogenic beverage. ''You're in for quite the trip, buddy,'' she told Loki, patting him on the back.

''You can help me with all of that, dear,'' Frigga said to her. ''It will be excellent practice for you.''

* * *

><p>Things got set into motion quickly after that. After consulting with Jane and Heimdall, they learned that the next new moon would be occurring on Midgard in just a few days, so they needed to hurry. ''Why is the dark of the moon so important?'' Darcy asked the Queen. They were in the enormous greenhouse again, discussing the impending ritual and putting together everything that they would need.<p>

Frigga examined the green fronds of a small plant in front of her. She squinted at it, then shook her head and set the plant aside. ''On Midgard in particular, magical workings are often done in alignment with the sky. It's yet another way of stating intent, and adding power to a ritual. The time of the new moon is a time of secrets, of hidden things.''

''How exactly is this going to work?'' Despite everything that she had seen and down, Darcy was having a rather difficult time wrapping her mind around this one. ''I mean, I understand being able to cross into different realms or whatever, but not different _times_.''

''You still think of time the wrong way,'' answered the Queen, smiling at her through the spindly branches of another tree. ''You think of it as a linear progression, when that is not the case. It's far more...complex than that, not nearly so orderly. But that is a long discussion for another day. For our purposes, Loki will be able to travel back in spirit form to simply_ observe_ the past. He won't be able to influence it in any way, he can only watch what happened playing as if on a screen.''

''How does he _get_ there, though?''

''He's going to have to go into a very deep trance, much deeper than anything either of you is used to.''

''Is it dangerous?'' Darcy asked in a low voice.

''Of course it is. It's very dangerous. Now come over here,'' she motioned for Darcy to come and stand beside her.

''We're going to select specific plants to use. Stand still. Close your eyes and clear your mind,'' Frigga instructed. ''Think about what you are looking for, the purpose that it needs to serve. Now, open your eyes. Go pick the first five plants that speak to you.''

It wasn't so much that they spoke to her with a voice, or with words, they seemed to sing with a unique energy, pulsing out from their stems and leaves and thorns like an aura. It would stand out brighter than all the rest, making them glow, drawing her in. Darcy slowly collected a sample of each one of them and brought it back, setting them down on the table for the Queen to inspect. ''Hmm, very good. Some of these I wouldn't even have considered at first, but now I think they may be just right.''

''What are we going to do with them?''

''As I said, some will be for incense, some for a potion. In addition to the many medicinal qualities that plants have, they also have magical properties. You need to take good care in choosing the plants that you want to use for your rituals, make sure that they are in energetic alignment with your goal. All of the elements must work together in support of the end result that you hope to achieve.'' She gathered them together and put them into a small bag.

Darcy couldn't help the chill of anxiety that coated her skin like dew in the too-early morning. Ever since seeing Ethan, she felt haunted, too close to the world of the dead. _Perhaps death gets you nowhere. _Passing over that final barrier only to find that you'd gone round in a circle and become a shadow. In her mind she felt the second hand of a clock stutter, twitch helplessly, and freeze. The baby kicked again, like a metronome.''Do you think that he's going to be ok doing this? I mean, honestly?''

Frigga took a moment before answering. ''He needs to have a clear mind, and clear intent. It's arriving at the destination that's going to be tricky, he may be tested, something may try to lead him off course. Any traveler is going to attract attention, you know that. But yes, I do think that he will be fine.''

* * *

><p>If Loki was nervous, he didn't show it outwardly. He didn't seem moody or morose the way he sometimes did, just deeply thoughtful and quiet. Almost meditative. It was the afternoon before the trance ritual that would hopefully take him into the past. This was not a trip that he wanted to be mentally unprepared for. His energy needed to be in check, both physically and emotionally, or he'd be asking for trouble. Darcy was the nervous one, she kept sitting down and standing back up, walking around and pulling books off of shelves, flipping through them and then putting them back.<p>

''Show me the pictures you saw in Retnick's house that day,'' he told her. ''I want to know if I see any familiar faces.''

Finally stilling, Darcy closed her eyes and found it in her memory, digging it out so that he could see it as well. Old, frozen, gray. A moment caught, as if in a spider's web.

''Alright,'' he said, ''I have it.'' He memorised the images, absorbed them into his own memory.

''Are you scared?'' she asked, fidgeting. He didn't answer for a moment, then he said. ''I'm afraid...that I don't know what I'm looking for. And I need to know, or I might miss it. Some important thing might pass right by and I won't see it in time.''

* * *

><p>It was time. They were using an unused room at the end of the hall. Torches were lit on the walls, it was slightly chilly in there so a fire was lit in the fireplace as well. Guards had been told discreetly by Frigga to monitor the door once it was closed and make sure that they were not disturbed. ''Darcy, I need you to try to be calmer,'' the Queen announced. ''Your energy is all over the place. Get it under control, dear. Remember what I taught you.''<p>

Taking a deep breath, Darcy willed herself to relax and focus. She stuffed all of her excess worry into an imaginary box inside of her mind, which she then mentally locked. ''Ok, so, where is everybody going to be?''

The Queen swept her hand around in a circular motion to indicate an area on the cool marble floor of the room. A large rug had been lain there, so it would be more comfortable.

''Jane, sit here,'' Frigga instructed, pointing. She handed the scientist a small drum made of wood and stretched animal hide. ''When we start, I want you to keep up a steady beat with this.'' Accepting the instrument with a nod, Jane sat down on the floor and waited. She didn't seem to be outwardly unnerved or confused by anything that was going on, but a distinct, quiet curiosity lingered on her features as she scrutinised the scene, as if she were mentally taking notes.

''Now, Loki, you're going to lay here,'' she said, pointing down to the centre of the rug. He stepped forward. His feet were bare and he was clad in very light, thin clothing. The firelight illuminated his pale skin, gave him a look of haunting loveliness.

''Drink this.'' Frigga handed him a small cup. His eyes met Darcy's as he lifted it to his lips and swallowed. ''Down the rabbit hole,'' she whispered, trying to keep her energy in check, fighting the sudden urge to cry, which she chalked up to hormones. ''Now lie down,'' Frigga told him, and he sank down to the floor and stretched out, staring up at the ceiling. The drink already seemed to be having some sort of an effect, Darcy noticed, the pupils in his eyes had dilated widely.

''And Darcy, you sit here beside him. You are going to sing vardlokkurs.''

''What?'' She hadn't known that singing anything was going to be part of this. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

''A spirit-attracting song,'' the Queen answered patiently. ''It's going to help him journey.''

''How does the song go?'' she asked, fighting the urge to bite her fingernails.

''Only you know that. Each one is unique.''

Darcy huffed in slight exasperation. ''I don't know what I'm supposed to be-''

''Just begin to sing from your soul, call to the spirits,'' Frigga advised in a soft voice as she lit the incense and began to move around the room. ''It will happen naturally. Jane, start drumming once the song begins.'' Giving a nod, Jane sat with her hand poised above the drum, watching and waiting.

The incense smoke hung heavy in the air, a pungent curtain draped over the room, bathing it and changing it.

Feeling foolish and terrified, Darcy began to vocalize. Starting out with a faint, almost tuneless humming, she slowly found that the sound began to grow louder. It took on a life of its own, a song writing itself as she sang it. It was eerie, sad, it flowed all around like mist. There was now a palpable energy shift throughout the entire space. The scientist's hand came down against the instrument, over and over again, and the beating melded with the strange, otherworldly vocalisations that Darcy could scarcely recognise as her own. She watched as Loki's eyelids begin to flutter closed. He fell into the sound, slowly, as if wading into a stream, finding the current that would take him out of the world. It caught him in its grip and carried him, he felt himself being pulled away from the room. It took him a few moments before he found himself in his spirit body, before he could open his eyes and look around.

He could hear the low, haunting chants, the sound of Darcy's voice still seemed to be crawling all through him, prompting him along. Breath, drumbeat, one foot moving in front of the other. The world rushing past, a kaleidoscope of light and sound. Like the souls, yes, like the souls. He tried not to think about that. Loki began to see distinct flashes of places in front of his eyes, a landscape that shifted before finally steadying. Out in the open air, gray. Misty moors, stretching for miles, fog draping over everything and keeping it hidden. The feeling that he was in a long-lonely place, a forgotten dream. And then finally, he was in the woods. It was dark. Night. A chill crept throughout the air.

His spirit double, Loki realized as he looked down at himself, was clad in armour, the kind that he had not worn in so long. Darcy hadn't actually ever seen him in it, he realised, except when she was looking into his memories.

''Follow,'' he heard a whisper cut through the quiet. ''Follow, follow.'' So he did, feet moving over some threshold, the cold air, the crunch of leaves and snap of twigs beneath his feet and darkness, darker still, the sound of singing, the spirit voices prompting him along. Bones on the ground, dark things, hidden out of time.

''Leave your armour,'' a voice murmured through the trees. ''You will not need it.'' Slowly, piece by piece he removed it until it fell discarded to the ground, immediately turning to dust.

Then he saw her, sitting beside a tree, just a few feet away. Her face was hidden at first by the midnight blue cloak that she wore. She raised her head, looked at him. Loki staggered back a little at the sight of a very familiar face. It was Darcy, but not. Of course not. He'd know those eyes anywhere, wide and burning onyx. It was the Well.

''It's not really you,'' he said, almost to himself. He'd grown very pale, looked suddenly younger, like a lost child wandering in the woods. He hated himself for feeling so naked.

The Well smiled. ''No,'' it agreed. She cocked her head to the side, studying him.

''This troubles you.''

''Yes, it troubles me,'' he snapped. ''I don't like you...wearing her face like that.''

''It's one of the less frightening forms I can take,'' it said, in that rough, deep voice that he hated. ''I was only being considerate.''

''I doubt that,'' Loki muttered, eyes narrowing.

''What do you seek?''

''The past,'' he told her firmly. ''I need to see something that happened long ago.''

The Well reached out, rested her hand against his chest and closed her eyes, keeping it there for a minute before pulling away and nodding. ''Through me, this can be found. Many come seeking,'' she continued, holding out her hand again. Something materialized in her palm. It was an eye, he realized with revulsion, an uncomfortably familiar blue eye. It's twin was still with the Allfather. He must have traveled this way once, long ago.''Few find.''

Up above, the branches wove into the sky like antlers. While he had the Well's attention, Loki decided to ask, ''Why do you possess Darcy at times?''

''She listens. She asked a question once, and I gave her the answer she needed, an answer that saved both of your lives. She can hold me. You hollowed her out, made her a perfect channel.''

''Why do you help us?''

She smiled with her stolen face. ''I don't. You are helping _me_.''

He ignored this. ''You know the things we're fighting, the ones that are hunting us. How do we cast them back?''

''Why does a bird fly into a mirror?'' came her cryptic response. The Well eyed him in a way that made Loki want to be cautious. ''Hold out your arm,'' she instructed and he did so. A sharp, small green leaf appeared in her hand.

He could almost feel snow, crisp cold, the smell of fire.

She cut his skin with the jagged edge, slowly etching the shape of a rune. Blood began to trickle. She leaned down and licked it away, he winced at the feeling of her tongue on his skin. ''Go now,'' she said, seeming satisfied, releasing his arm. Thankful to be getting away from the Well, Loki walked deeper and deeper into the woods for what seemed like miles. There was nothing to see in any direction, only more trees. His arm burned irritatingly. Then above, the branch of a huge tree seemed to come alive, it reached out and wound tightly around his leg. Before Loki could even realize what was happening, he had been pulled into the air until he hung dangling upside down. He sucked in a breath. Panic and darkness everywhere, with him suspended in the middle of it. Nothing. He listened closely and realised that he'd lost Darcy's voice, couldn't hear the spirit song anymore, or the drum, he had no guide. And then, quite unpleasantly, the world began to tilt, spin, move, until there was no direction and he was dizzy and sick. He was reminded of the first few moments after falling off of the rainbow bridge. Able to contemplate only his own breathing, the crawling along the inside of his skull.

It might have been hours, or days that he hung there. Loki felt like he might be going mad, he forced himself to close his eyes and think of Darcy. This was why. She. The reason for all of this. He tried to feel her, to seek out the sound of those two heartbeats, mother and child, everything he loved. Without warning, the tree released him, and he went falling to the ground with a jolting thud. Swearing, he got up and collected himself. His head swam and his limbs ached. There was a light up ahead, now between the branches. He moved forward until he emerged from the woods and saw the Walters Estate looming ahead, all lit up. The bloody rune on his arm began to burn again and Loki found himself being pulled backward away from the scene.

Walking out of time, into a dreamlike place, a veil. Pass through. A grove of trees on the far end of the estate. Listening, aware. Fingers reaching out. The enormous house, all lit up against the dark. It was so familiar. Once again, it started in flashes before steadying: He saw Helen, inside the house, the almost frightened look on her face, the way her hand came up to nervously twist the string of pearls around her neck. Ascend the staircase, vanish from view. What had she seen? What did she know? A group of men wearing dark hooded cloaks, walking out to that grove of trees. In the window, watching, yet another familiar face. The sour-faced tour guide, he remembered her from their visit to the house. But that was impossible. She looked exactly the same. Back to the trees, the men in their robes, the moon hanging in the sky, almost completely eclipsed. They lit a small fire in the center of the circle formed by their bodies. There was something alive in the trees, something that listened. He could almost see it, shadows crawling out of the bark, slinking among the branches. Miles below ground there lay the hidden cells where the spirits moaned.

He tried to catch their faces beneath their dark hoods; thankfully the firelight lent its aid and illuminated them enough for him to see. Lord Walters, thin and and grey-haired, with a high brow and aristocratic features. Lugh Retnick, icily handsome. Several that he didn't recognize, but then beside Lugh stood a smaller man. His face finally came into view as he moved closer towards the fire and Loki recognised him. Ethan Montauk, watching warily through his one good eye.

A familiar shadowy face appeared, as he answered his summons and came walking out of the woods. The Reckoner.

The scene in the grove spun out of view and Loki was back inside the house. The party was over, servants were cleaning up. He saw Ethan again, out of his robe. Casting a nervous glance around, he darted down a rather familiar corridor, Loki recognized it from their visit to the house. At the end of the hall lay the Library of the Damned. Ethan opened the door. A rush of air seemed to come from within the room and it pushed him back, the scenery retreated and retreated until Loki was dizzy from the motion of being pulled backwards. He was outside again, moving away from the house, back into the woods. The rune on his arm was burning, he could hear the drumming, hear the spirit song, her voice calling him back. ''No,'' he whispered. ''No, I need more time, I need to see...'' His pleas were ignored and he tumbled backward, through the darkness again as the song and the drumming grew nearer and nearer, until he could smell incense and feel Darcy beside him as he returned to himself.

The drumming stopped and then Jane gave a small, startled gasp. ''What is that?'' he heard her ask in a shrill voice. She seemed disturbed by something. As he blinked to reorient himself, he heard Darcy's heart speed up. ''I don't know,'' she answered. ''It wasn't...where did it come from?''

It took him a moment to realise what had them all so bothered. He could feel something against his fingers, slick and strange to the touch. Looking down, Loki saw that in the palm of his hand he was holding an eye.


	26. Chapter 26

**Hi guys! It took longer than I wanted to update, sorry about that. Thank you for reading! **

* * *

><p><em>I heard he was up on the roof last night<em>

_Signalling with a flashlight_

_And what's that tune _

_he's always whistling_

_What's he building in there?_

_What's he building in there?_

**-Tom Waits**

The ritual had taken less than an hour, but Loki felt as though he'd been gone for months. Readjusting to reality was a grating experience, his mind felt sprained and splintered. The thick incense still hung all around the room like fog.

Frigga sighed deeply once she saw what he was holding, folded her hands. She didn't say anything.

Still dizzy, he got up off of the floor and began walking towards the door. Darcy got to her feet as quickly as she could. ''Wait! Where are you-'' She followed him, and then the others went after her. He looked a sight—barefoot, disoriented, hair falling into his eyes. Torches burned in the throne room, as did a fire, and shadows went leaping all along the walls and floor, performing a ballet. The Allfather was sitting quietly, watching them. Loki entered the room swiftly, until he came to stand right in front of him.

The eye was tossed unceremoniously to the floor. There came a swift intake of breath from the Allfather.

''What do you want?'' Odin asked, voice like stone. In the dim light and shifting shadows, it was hard to read his expression.

Loki seemed mildly taken aback by the question, he stared down at the eye on the floor and then said, ''That's yours. I think you left it behind.'' He turned and stumbled out of the room like a sleepwalker.

Frigga, Darcy and a very shocked-seeming Jane were standing outside the door when he emerged. ''You need to go and lay down, your mind needs to readjust, you were in very deep,'' the Queen told him firmly, putting a hand on his forehead.

''Deep enough to actually _bring something back_,'' Jane murmured disbelievingly. Her eyes were very wide. ''This is...incredible. It flies in the face of all known laws of physics.''

''Really, Jane?'' Darcy said exasperatedly. ''_This_ is the thing that's so incredible? There's more going on here than physics, trust me.'' But even she looked a little shaky, and she fell silent as she took Loki by the arm and led him down the hall to their room. Once they got there he lay down on the bed but didn't close his eyes, just kept staring. It was unsettling, how far away he still looked. Deep in the land of shadows. He stayed like that for awhile, and Darcy chewed her fingernails and tried to think about something else. Eventually the darkness began to pull away from his eyes and he seemed more himself again. Loki turned over on the bed, saw her sitting there, the pale look of fear that she was trying to hide and it made him slightly sick. ''Are you alright?''

Darcy let out a choked-sounding laugh at the question, but then her shoulders slumped and she seemed to fold up a bit, wrapping her arms around herself.

''I feel worried, I feel cold,'' she confessed. _Make love to me, make me warm,_ that was what she wanted to say. The earlier events had taken an emotional toll on both of them. She could still almost hear her own weird singing throughout the the room and it chilled her. ''I was afraid for you. I think she was too. She kept bouncing all around.'' She put a hand on her stomach and gave him a watery smile through unshed tears. ''We might have a gymnast on our hands.''

He smiled weakly in response and Darcy scooted closer to him. Reaching over, she took hold of his hand and then pressed it against her. ''Just wait, then you'll feel it,'' she said, and Loki splayed out his fingers and waited. Sure enough, after a moment he felt a light, strange fluttering sensation as his child kicked. ''See,'' she said, still smiling. ''There she is.''

The darkness went away for a little while. He kept his hand resting there, until they all fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Things got very busy the next day. There was some kind of renovation work being done on the Palace, Darcy had learned, repairing old weak spots in the structure and adding a few new additions. However, it wasn't coming along as well as everyone had hoped, and the powers that be had put Loki in charge of overseeing it all, mainly because they didn't want to deal with it anymore. Loki was still remarkably quiet about his trip, he seemed to be mulling everything over and Darcy knew better than to force him to divulge anything before he was ready. Yet she was fitfully curious. Life was suddenly brisk and almost frantic, as if a current had formed around them all and was moving too quickly for anyone to control. They were swept up and held in it, rushed along, towards something.<p>

After a particularly long and annoying afternoon, Loki grudgingly went to have a discussion with Odin about the construction delays. Neither one of them brought up what had happened the night before, but they regarded each other with a new wariness. Darcy had taken a walk to the other side of the palace to meet him and so she was, unfortunately, present for the conversation. Loki had told her that she didn't have to wait, that she could go on ahead and he would meet up with her once he was finished, but she really didn't feel like being alone. The bitter wind was howling through the open places in the walls, and it was grating on her. She hung back by the door, half-paying attention, then she noticed that the conversation had abruptly shifted track and they were talking about what was happening on Midgard. The Allfather spoke dismissively of it as ever, offering no insight or support. Darcy rolled her eyes at this. ''Your grandfather is an asshat,'' she whispered to her unborn child, who kicked in agreement.

''Since you think yourself so wise, why don't you figure out a solution,'' Odin was saying stiffly.

Loki gritted his teeth. Anger shimmered in his eyes. ''Nothing, all I get from you is nothing, all I've ever gotten!''

Darcy figured that it was probably time for them to go. She thought Odin looked like he was going to launch into a tirade equivalent to 'listen here you little shit, let me explain to you a thing,' and she wasn't wrong in that assessment. Heaving a sigh, she quietly entered the room and walked closer to the two men.

''I took you under my roof, you ungrateful bastard,'' the Allfather raged. ''I raised you as my own son! And all you've ever done is whine and complain about how unfair your life is, and how its always someone else's fault.'' Then he calmed slightly, and continued, in a softer but no less aggravated tone,

''I think its very ironic that you suddenly care so about the freedom of those people, the very people that you wanted to enslave. These invading beings are carrying out your work, it would seem. And now you want to stop them. Make up your mind.''

''What I wanted was very different from what's happening now,'' Loki said. The words were very tight and sharp around the edges.

''Don't you understand that _you do not get to decide._'' Odin got to his feet, his voice raising again, reverberating furiously throughout the room. ''Who are you to say what should or should not be allowed to occur? You can't throw a fit every time you don't get your own way. You are a spoiled, petulant child.''

Darcy had no idea what they were actually arguing about anymore, it seemed to now be a general airing of grievances.

''You want to see a fit? I'll show you a fit!'' Loki drew himself up to his full height and glared daggers at his adoptive father. The two men faced off, each daring the other to make a move.

''Knock it off!'' Darcy found herself screaming at the both of them. _Jeez, _she thought, _hormones are really getting the better of me. _''I'm so tired of your damned pissing contests.'' Then she grew dizzy. Before she even had a chance to recoil or protest, the Well was speaking through her. Darcy pointed at Odin. ''You are a liar and a hypocrite,'' she rasped. ''You were once noble. I expected better from you. Don't forget where you learned it all from. Hanging from the trees, swing down, catch, catch before they fade. I gave him your eye, because he deserves it more than you.'' Her head dipped weirdly to the side. ''Ashes on the floor. I can smell them.'' Then she swung over and pointed at Loki, who wore a haunted expression, almost trying to look away from her. ''And you are afraid. As you should be.'' She put her hand against his face, locking her black eyes with his green ones. ''Look at me. That's better. The fear is useful.'' Then the Well released her from its grip and Loki caught her as she collapsed.

* * *

><p>When she woke up, she was in the serene glow of the Healing Chambers. She felt warm. It took Darcy a moment to remember exactly what had happened but then it came back to her. Her last conscious thought had been walking towards Loki and Odin, who were in the middle of a huge argument. Then she'd screamed at them and it had all begun to fade backwards. She realized what had happened, the Well had possessed her yet again to prove a point. Panic knifed Darcy in the heart and her hands flew to her belly. Mercifully, she could feel the baby move and kick, seeming to be unharmed.<p>

She heard footsteps and then saw Eir walk over to her. ''You're going to be just fine,'' the Healer spoke reassuringly, before Darcy could even ask. ''The baby isn't in any danger. I know that it's quite terrifying to channel that much energy through yourself, but fortunately you've gotten almost used to it by now. It's nothing to fear, the Well is a great intelligence, it won't give you more than you can handle.''

''I don't_ want_ to handle this, whether I can or not,'' she mumbled, putting a hand against her forehead. ''I hate this shit. I never know when this stupid power or whatever is going to leap into my body. It's like having chronic panic attacks only _worse_.''

''You resist it,'' Eir remarked. ''You fear it.''

''Of course I fear it. I'm not exactly going to welcome it with open arms. I don't like the feeling...it just climbs along my spine, like...burning fingers, until it feels like the top of my head is going to fly off.''

The Healer nodded sympathetically and rested a comforting hand on Darcy's on. ''You are a special person. Let me give you a suggestion, try to make peace with the Well. It's already chosen you, it's mind is made up. This is not going to go away, I'm afraid. And that doesn't mean that you are any less Darcy, it just means that you are at times the vehicle through which a greater power can speak.''

''Like a prophet or something?''

''A prophet, a mystic, a sybil—there's been so many words in different worlds for such a thing. And it is regarded as a great gift—but not always an easy or comfortable one.'' She patted Darcy's arm again. ''Aside from this...incident, how have you been feeling?''

''I'm doing really good actually. But...I'm interested in the genetics of this,'' Darcy admitted to Eir. She had been recently daydreaming about what their little girl would look like, and it brought up certain questions. ''Is she going to like...turn blue also?'' The Healer smiled. ''Well, its entirely possible. Her father is a frost giant, after all. But, she may well inherit his shapeshifting abilities too. We'll just have to wait and see. I'm sure she'll be lovely either way,'' Eir added. ''She's important, just like you. The very first of her kind. In a sense, she's uniting many worlds.''

* * *

><p>Loki paced outside the door of the Healing Chambers, back and forth. He felt nothing but hollow terror and blind rage, mingling together into one bitter emotion. Then the door opened and Eir emerged.<p>

''She's resting comfortably now,'' the Healer said.

''Is—'' he could barely form the words. Eir smiled calmly. ''All is well.'' Loki let out a shaky breath.

''She'll be ready to go in a few minutes,'' she added.

''I'll be back in a moment, then,'' he said and the blonde woman looked curiously after him he turned and walked quickly down the hall. He went to the library of all places, it was a good place to be alone. He'd spent many long hours there as a young man.

Loki was filled with the great need to destroy something. Fear always made him want to destroy, and the fear that had gone through him when he saw the Well behind her eyes again had been jarring. He hated that this dreadful force was so insidiously close, threatening his...his everything. Once he was sure he was alone in the large chamber, he stood silently for a moment, breathing shallowly. The events of the last two days had filled him to brimming with uncomfortable emotions that needed an outlet and now they all melded together as they released themselves. ''I hate this!'' Loki screamed, and his voice echoed meanly back at him. ''I hate all of this!'' _I'll show you a fit! _He swept his hand through the air. Books were thrown from shelves. They opened and their pages tore themselves from their spines, shredding like confetti. The flames of the torches on the walls leaped unnaturally high and then went out as ice formed along the walls and the floor. Frost climbed on the windows. For one split second, he contemplated it. Thought about solving their problems by simply obliterating Midgard in one icy motion of catastrophic fury. He knew that he was powerful enough to do it, finally. Without the aid of any other deadly force. He alone could destroy entire worlds, unaided. But no. That was the coward's way out. And he loved Darcy too much to do it, she would never forgive him. Loki looked down at his hands and then crumpled to the ground, a sad, sick-sounding laugh forcing its way out of his throat while traitorous tears began to fall in cold rivulets down his face.

Unbeknownst to him, Jane Foster watched this unfolding from the doorway, where she stood, silently. The scientist never thought that she would ever feel pity for Loki, but now, almost against her will, she did. She had hated him so much, and the hatred was a welcome one. She'd enjoyed the sense of moral superiority that she felt whenever he was around, enjoyed seeing him as nothing more than a monster. Realizing how much he truly loved Darcy had made Jane sick at first; monsters weren't supposed to be able to love. Heroes loved and heroes won and that was the way it should be, neat and happily ever after, that was what the stories said. But she knew that those stories were mostly lies. She had so badly wanted what Loki and Darcy had, wanted to fit into this strange world somehow. It had led her down a very dark, sad spiral. It wasn't until she had arrived back on Asgard that her mind had begun to change a little and she slowly began to find peace again. It was Frigga who had helped her with that: Jane had many long discussions with the Queen, had literally cried on her shoulder and confessed all of her worries. ''You are important too, Jane, very important,'' the goddess had said. ''Just not in the way that you think. You have a special role to play, and believe me, you will not be forgotten, in this world or any other.''

She moved back a few steps, still looking through the door at the ice on the walls and windows, at the broken figure on the floor, who she could no longer hate.

* * *

><p>Later, after Darcy was resting comfortably back in their room, Loki was sitting in one of the smaller halls, leafing through blueprints and plans, trying to force his mind onto his mundane duties in Asgard. Everything he had seen during his journey the previous night was now hammering at the inside of his skull, begging to be acknowledged. It was easy enough to shake it off in the light of day but now night had fallen once again and all of the shadows were coming out to wreak havoc again. A spark of annoyance went through him as he heard footsteps and saw a figure approaching, the very last person he wanted to see at the moment. Even Thor would have been a thousand times more welcome a sight. Loki realized at that moment that he actually missed Thor, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.<p>

Odin sat down at the table next to him. He produced a bottle of mead and two cups. There was nothing but cold silence in the room for a moment until the Allfather spoke.

''I think I may have...underestimated you,'' he admitted gruffly.

Loki gave the other man an acidic glare. ''As Darcy would say, _no shit_,'' he replied, setting down the parchment he was holding.

Odin poured the drink into the cups and slid one over to him. ''You certainly picked a strange little girl to bind yourself to. I've never quite been able to understand her.''

''Good. Don't try,'' he shot back in a cold voice, and then took a sip of the liqueur, which burned a trail down his throat. The pain was strangely cathartic and invigorating.

''I've never known you to love anything,'' noted the older man. ''It's perplexing, the way that you adore her.''

''It's perplexing for _you_. Perhaps you lack _vision,_'' Loki said scathingly, the words a cold hiss.

Odin let this pass. ''What do you want?'' he asked, pouring another drink for both of them.

''I want to leave this beastly world and all the others, take my family someplace where nobody can ever find us. I want calm.'' _I want you to die, _he added, but only to himself.

''That's not the answer I expected,'' admitted the Allfather.

''Well, you never did expect to hear the truth from me.''

''There is much that I never expected from you. I had no idea that you would grow up to become such a _complicated_ creature.''

''And if you had known, you would have left me in the snows of Jotunheim to die and everyone would have been spared a good deal of trouble, I know, I know, I've heard it all before. Well, there is a very old expression on Midgard—let the buyer beware.'' He pushed back his chair and got up from the table.

Walking away from Odin without another word, Loki left the hall and headed down the long series of corridors that led back to his room. Darcy was there, lying in bed, propped up by a stack of pillows. It was bright in the room, warm, a stark contrast to the rest of the palace, and to the world outside. He sat down beside her, wordlessly. He knew that he needed to talk to her about his visions from the past. It was all that he saw when he closed his eyes. Sometimes he could even still feel the cold night air on his face, the slight nauseating swaying of his upside down body hanging from the tree. Falling in and out of time. He had never gone into a controlled trance that deep before. It had left him feeling not so very brave at all, and Loki hated himself for that. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare, wanted to feel Darcy's fingers along his body and have her hold him and call him baby and make everything fine for a few minutes. He could tell that she wanted to ask him what he had seen, but she knew him well enough not to push it.

''She looked like you,'' he said.

Darcy put down the book she was reading. ''Who did?''

''The Well. She appeared to me during the journey. She, it, whatever—had your face.''

''Yuck. I'm sorry. That must have been a bit of a mindfuck.''

''It just made me angry, really,'' Loki said. ''It seemed awfully...presumptuous of it, to think that would be the proper thing to do.''

Darcy smiled. ''I don't think that ancient forces necessarily care about being polite. They're more showy—they like to get your attention, good or bad. You should understand that.''

''I suppose. I think it may have been a useless endeavor. I didn't learn anything, really.''

She raised her eyebrows. ''Did you see anything suspicious, though?''

''Are you serious, love? The whole thing was suspicious. Men in dark hooded cloaks trooping out into the woods to summon an ancient entity, it wasn't exactly afternoon tea on the veranda.''

Now giving him a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Darcy said, ''I meant, did you see anything suspicious that we didn't already _know _about. I was using it as more of a relative term. I was hoping that maybe you would see what happened with that manuscript, when Joe stole it.''

He looked at her. ''Joe Haven wasn't even _there_ that night. But Ethan Montauk was. Something tells me you didn't hear the whole story. Your ghostly friend might be omitting certain important details.''

''Why would he do that? He's dead.''

''Don't tell me that the dead don't have an agenda, of course they do. What is his, though?''

''He got kinda weird when I mentioned Helen,'' she recalled.

''Weird how?'' Loki asked.

''He...I dunno, he just got this look on his face.''

''Like a...regretful look, or...'' he pressed. Some piece was hovering, wanting to fall into place but unsure of when to drop or where to land.

''Maybe a little but it was more like...sad and...''

''Longing?''

Darcy nodded. ''Maybe, yeah. Do you think that's relevant somehow?''

''I think it might definitely become more relevant. Whoever Joe actually was, I think he had far _less_ to do with all of this than we've been told. He may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.''

* * *

><p><strong>The Next Day<strong>

''I'm going to have this architect flayed alive,'' Loki said with a sigh as he returned to their room, shutting the door with a loud crash. The look in his eyes suggested that he really meant it. ''I've no idea what game he's playing.''

''How long has he been working?'' Darcy asked.

''Months and months, apparently, he started right after we arrived.''

She lay on the bed, propped up by pillows. This was how she spent a lot of her time lately. It was getting to be late afternoon, that point of the day when she always got particularly exhausted. Darcy could hear the distant sounds of construction down the hall. Bang, bang, clatter, thump, over and over again in a disjointed rhythm. There was tightly bottled aggression in Loki's movements as he started to remove his clothing, which was covered in a light film of dust. He muttered to himself, but said nothing else, just pulled off layer after layer. Formal attire took a long time to take on and off, there were so many pieces. Bored, she craned her neck and watched him. Leather and metal, those clothes must be heavy and cumbersome. She felt sorry for him, knowing how annoying the dresses were that she had once been made to wear. Bare skin was slowly revealed, and Darcy couldn't help but let herself get lost in staring. Loki really was incredibly beautiful, whether he wanted to believe it or not.

He turned around then, pretending to look affronted. ''I'm not a piece of meat,'' he said. ''I have feelings, and right now I'm feeling that you only want me for my body.'' He sighed dramatically.

''That's right,'' said Darcy with a nod. ''Now bring it over here.'' Obligingly, he walked over and came to stand in front of her.

''I feel so used,'' he said, sighing as she worked to undo his pants.

''Oh, I'm gonna use you all right,'' she promised. In what felt like less than a second she had him in her mouth and was working at him hungrily. Loki's eyes rolled back a little in his head. She was always good at this. Darcy pulled away, looking up at him with a gaze full of dark, sensual promise. ''I'm going to make sure you can't even remember your name.''

Unfortunately, there was a distraction, the knocking and banging sounds of construction were getting closer. A loud thud came from directly on the other side of the wall. ''Oh, shut _up_,'' he yelled in response to the noise. ''Can't anybody get a moment's peace?''

She laughed around him, it sent a pleasant, humming vibration all through his body. He gave a light hiss of pleasure and threaded his fingers through Darcy's hair, tugging on it. ''Yes,'' he whispered encouragingly, prompting her to suck harder, rocking his hips forward to push himself further into her mouth, trying to be gentle despite the need. She kept up a rhythm, alternating slow and fast motions with her hand and her mouth, swirling her tongue around him. Relaxing the muscles in her throat, she allowed him to thrust deeper and deeper. Back and forth, energy flowed as if it was being generated by their bodies. Darcy felt him give a shudder, his cock twitched and then she felt a pulse of energy as he came, spurting down her throat. She swallowed all of him, hungrily. Releasing him, she smiled up at Loki through heavy-lidded eyes. ''Feel better now?'' she asked. ''Much,'' he admitted, sinking down onto the bed beside her. He pulled at the thick robe that she was wearing. ''Are you cold?'' he wondered. ''I was,'' came her reply. ''Not so much anymore.'' He tugged at the fabric again, urgently. With a hesitation that he had been noticing more and more lately, she shrugged it off. Darcy seemed quite self-conscious about the way that her body looked now, her hands went up to cover herself almost unconsciously, there was a timidness in her expression. ''What is the matter?'' he asked, almost amused.

''I'm getting freaking _huge_,'' she muttered. ''And I'm only going to get bigger. I honestly didn't think I was going to have a problem with it at first but...''

''I think that you look beautiful,'' Loki told her in a firm voice. She did, she did look beautiful, with the new curves of her body and her bright, soft skin. ''I want to draw hundreds of pictures of you.''

''You haven't sketched much recently,'' she noted.

''There's been too much other nonsense to deal with.'' He ran his fingers along her shoulder. ''And I hate it, my love, I hate it so.''

* * *

><p>Though Darcy had been deliberately avoiding the construction areas before, the next day after having a lesson with Frigga for a little while she decided to venture over to see what exactly had Loki in such a rotten mood lately. There seemed to be an addition being built onto one wing, but very little headway had been made and everything was in disrepair. Loki was standing at one end of a sturdy-looking piece of scaffolding that overlooked the mess of half-built wall and rubble below. Carefully, she ventured out onto it and walked over to him.<p>

''I don't want you out here,'' he said urgently when he saw her approach, motioning her back with his hand. ''It isn't safe.''

She rolled her eyes. ''It's fine. You're standing here, aren't you.'' Darcy looked over the side of the rail and watched as below a man studied a series of what looked like blueprints. She could practically hear Loki grinding his teeth beside her.

''That's the dude that's been causing you so much freaking grief?'' she exclaimed disbelievingly. She squinted down at him. ''He looks like Neil Young.''

''He says he's having trouble with the doorways, they have to be just right, or some nonsense. We're not paying you to quibble about the doors, old man!'' Loki shouted down, aggravated. ''Stop wasting everyone's time!''

The man half-looked up at him, then went back to what he was doing. Darcy put her hand on Loki's arm. ''Let's take a break. C'mon.'' She started pulling him away and he looked like he was about to protest but then thought better of it. ''Alright,'' he relented, following after her. ''Why is this eating at you so much anyhow?'' she asked, once they were alone together. Before he could answer, she said, ''Nevermind, I know why. It's because they gave you this task expecting you to fail, and so you're desperate to prove them wrong.''

He raised his eyebrows, was silent, but she knew that she was right.

''I don't even know why I care so much,'' he admitted. ''It's annoying.''

''What is, caring?'' He nodded.

''Yes, caring about something is annoying because it makes you a little bit vulnerable—a feeling that you particularly hate.'' Darcy thought about it. ''Remember that one time when we...sort of played with knives?''

That was back in Paris. She had been game for it, after a glass or two of wine, but no cold metal touched her skin that night, rather, she'd held the blade in her hand, done as Loki had instructed despite her hesitation and gently, gently as she could traced the edge of the dagger over his naked chest, not enough to leave a mark really, just teasingly. She'd tried to keep her hand from shaking when she held it against his throat. The sex had been very dark and very passionate but it still had left her feeling just the slightest bit _sad._

''I didn't think that you liked it very much,'' he replied thickly. ''That's why we never really did it again.''

''It's fine, I mean, everybody has their kinks—but sometimes you take it to a different level. Like you're trying to work something out and don't even really know it. My point is—you'll deliberately put yourself into a vulnerable position with me but hate it when anyone else makes you feel that way.''

''It's _different_ with you,'' Loki said. He was digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand. ''Everything is different with you. I feel safer with you holding a knife to my throat then I do even being in the same room with some of these people, and it makes me want to rip them apart and scatter them all over the ground. Some days I want to conjure up the forces of chaos and then unleash them. I imagine taking you someplace far away and standing on some hill watching as everything falls apart, just burns and crumbles and there's no more.'' This confession came flooding out of him in a torrent of blistering anger. ''I never have to see their mocking glances or hear their whispers again. And there is no more Reckoner, no more spirits or ghosts or Palaces of Souls, I destroy them all too and I _smile_. I stand beside you and hold our child and I smile because there is finally nobody left to hurt us.''

There was the rage, always the first response, the defence. Safe beneath the cloak of fury. They may not love, but they will kneel or fall dead before. This part of Loki had once made Darcy shiver, but now it only filled her with a deep, hollow sadness-maybe that was because she understood it so much more now. ''Oh sweetheart,'' she said with a sigh, reaching for him and pulling him close to her. ''It's not the way.''

''Then what is?'' he mumbled against her skin.

''I don't know, baby,'' she replied honestly, trying to conjure strength into her heart. ''But we will find it. Together.''


	27. Chapter 27

**Hey guys! Sorry this update took a little longer than usual. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p>Darcy didn't know if there were seasons on Asgard. Most days the temperature was fairly stable but it did fluctuate a little and there seemed to definitely be more weather now, intermittent rain and cloudy days; even on the sunny days the light seemed to move differently, in that weird, haunted way that indicated it was now autumn. Months had come and gone like seconds, and she could scarcely even remember them.<p>

It was time to discuss delivery. It was real now. As if she wasn't reminded of that every time she looked down and couldn't see her shoes. Or when she had to go to the bathroom every ten seconds. She was losing track of time, it was slipping through her fingers, the days uncounted, blurring into months.

''On your world, I believe that children are birthed in...hospitals, is that correct?'' Eir asked her. Darcy was in the Healing Chambers, getting a checkup of sorts. Laying back on the table, she nodded. ''Yeah, or sometimes people will choose to use a midwife and do things more naturally, I guess. How do we do it here?''

''How do you want to do it?'' the Healer shrugged. ''I would suggest being in water, but if that doesn't suit you then I would recommend positioning your body into more of an upright position. I never understood that Midgardian nonsense about laying women on their backs to have a child. Totally counterintuitive,'' she sniffed.

''Ok,'' said Darcy, not really knowing enough about the subject to have an opinion one way or the other. ''So long as I'm not like, squatting in a field or something.'' She pulled herself into a sitting position with no small amount of difficulty.

''No, I don't think that would be proper,'' Eir agreed, smiling and helping her back to her feet. ''Well, we can talk more about this as the time gets closer. Which...really won't be long now, Darcy. Only a few more weeks. Everything looks good. Soon you're going to be a mother.''

She almost burst into tears at this. ''I'm not ready,'' she admitted, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling stupid and childish and brimming over with emotion. ''I expected to be more _ready_ by now.''

''Sssh, my lady,'' the Healer said, patting her on the shoulder. ''Nobody is ever completely ready,'' she told her gently. ''You just do the best that you can.''

Darcy nodded and tried to collect herself, wiping the tears from her face as she exited the Chambers. She moved very slowly now. She felt like a water buffalo. Bored and overcome with a sudden influx of anxiety, she wandered around until she found herself at one of the construction sights. There was that builder, looking thoughtfully at one of the new doorframes that had just been put up. As she watched, Darcy was swarmed with a strong, nagging intuition that told her something wasn't right. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, and this annoyed her. It was like a small insect buzzing around her head, one that she couldn't see closely enough to swat away. For the time being, she decided to chalk it up to hormones once again, reminding herself not to get carried away. Turning, she went in search of something to do and found herself wandering into the Observatories, where Jane was working, drinking a cup of something that Darcy assumed was the Asgardian equivalent of coffee. Moving around the space, she looked at the 'equipment', which looked both antiquated and ultra-advanced at the same time. Shaking her head, she wondered how long it would take to learn how to properly use this technology. Darcy became reminded of their former dynamic, the days when she would sit and watch Jane work, trying to figure out where to put herself amid all the science. Those days were gone, but thinking of them made her feel oddly comforted.

An hour or so later, Jane and Darcy were sitting on chairs in the hall, having decided to take a break. It was a long, boring stretch of afternoon with very little to do. It wasn't a being alone sort of day, it was one of those where the air made you restless and gave you the creeps if you were by yourself, so the two women were glad to have each other's company.

''He works a lot, doesn't he?'' Jane asked, meaning Loki.

Darcy nodded. ''Yeah, he's trying to oversee all this construction and he hates it.''

''Sounds like a tough gig,'' the scientist admitted. ''I've never seen anything be built more slowly. They've been at it for months.''

''Loki thinks Odin is trying to punish him by putting him in charge of all of it.''

Jane shrugged. ''He probably is. He's probably trying to show him that being in charge of something is hard work.''

Darcy didn't reply, she simply frowned down at the iPod in her hand, tapping at the screen.

''What are you doing?''

''I'm making Loki a playlist to listen to. He's been totally stressed lately, maybe this will calm him down.''

''Let me see,'' Jane held out her hand and Darcy passed over the device. The scientist flipped through it. ''This isn't exactly calming music,'' she remarked. ''Why is there so much early Pearl Jam on here?''

Darcy shrugged. ''It just seems like something he'd like. I have a feeling that him and young Eddie Vedder would have gotten along well.''

''Like a house on fire,'' muttered Jane, handing it back. ''How do you recharge that thing, anyway? It's not like there's a surplus of outlets around here.''

''I don't need to recharge it. Loki enchanted it so that the battery will stay full forever.''

''How wonderful for you.''

Darcy grinned evilly. ''I can't help it if my baby's got mad skills.''

''You got the mad part right,'' Jane joked, but she was thinking about what she had seen that day, Loki screaming and then crumpled on the floor, in such obvious emotional pain. She shook her head, trying to clear the memory away. The room was very quiet for a moment, only the distant sound of the wind through the empty places in the walls. Once again, the light was changing and the shadows made everything strange. ''I think the days are shorter now. It just feels that way.'' The scientist remarked with a sigh. Suddenly she missed Thor very much. ''Do you think we'll ever get to go home? Do you think that soon there will even be a home to go back to?''

''_How should I know? You're the smart one_,'' was what Darcy wanted to say, but instead she just pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders and didn't say anything at all.

Later that evening, after Jane had gone, Darcy was still waiting for Loki, who was very late. Still bored out of her mind and afflicted with that weird restlessness, she continued to wander until she saw a familiar figure staring out up into the sky.

She didn't often have conversations with Heimdall. The gatekeeper was such an imposing, almost frightening figure that she typically avoided him. Jane seemed to like him well enough though, and the two of them were now something like starwatching buddies.

''How is it on Midgard?'' The word which had once sounded so foreign now came naturally to her, which was mildly startling.

The massive Asgardian didn't even turn around, his eyes remained fixed out on the sky. He took a moment before answering. ''Dark,'' he said. ''Very dark now.''

A feeling of deja vu overtook Darcy as she recalled a conversation that they'd had the last time she was on Asgard, right before things started to get _really _serious.

''Every species will face extinction some day, humans and gods alike. That is the way of things,'' he added, and this statement, while true, still felt like a cold, stinging slap to the face. ''I don't know why I ever even bother talking to you,'' she muttered, turning and walking away.

''You're so very like him, you know,'' came Heimdall's voice from behind her. He sounded mildly amused. ''You both get that same look on your faces when you hear something you don't like.''

* * *

><p>Loki was irritated, but knew that he needed to keep this irritation tempered down, under control. He'd found himself daydreaming lately as a solution. He'd become more dreamy and thoughtful after the trip he'd taken in to the past, a trip that he was still ambivalent about. He couldn't decide if it had been a waste of time and energy or not. He <em>had<em> gleaned some sort of insight from it, he simply wasn't sure what it was. The message was hidden, needed to be decoded. '_We need more places to run to_,' he thought wearily, staring out the window as the sky began to shift its colors. Midgard was certainly no longer an option, and Asgard he hoped was only temporary. He couldn't wait until they could leave again, but to where? Everything seemed too loud and too quiet at the same time. The walls were screaming something that died away before it could reach his ears. He kept staring out the window, thinking about another time, some journey they'd taken, trying to remember the landscape. He and Darcy had taken so many trips together, he wanted to be sure that he could recall all of them, those simple in-between moments that were so important, like the way her hair looked in the lamplight by the window, or the smile on her face when she stood by some old statue that seemed to matter. A frustrated feeling wound through his blood as he realized how much time they'd actually spent apart since being here. These were the times that they should be together more than ever, but so many days she'd had to be alone while he worked for...for what? What was the point in all of this? He was trying to prove something, she was correct about that—but at what cost? The whole thing was so idiotic, he thought angrily as he glared around, as the sound of hammering and building continued, a construction that would never be finished. ''This is a damn joke,'' he muttered, slipping out of the daydream and back into the ugly world. He turned and walked away to find her.

''Hey,'' she said, smiling when he walked through the door. The smile warmed him. Darcy was holding an old, slightly worn book on her lap, one that he dimly recognized as having belonged to him a very long time ago, though he couldn't remember what was in it. ''Hello,'' he returned, shutting the door behind him, wanting to sigh with relief when he heard it click closed. ''What do you have there?''

''I think it's an old journal of yours or something. There's little notes and sketches...'' she turned the page. ''You seemed awfully lonely.''

''Well, we've established that, haven't we?'' he shrugged. ''Besides, the young always tend to be a little overly dramatic about their loneliness.''

''Yeah. You should have seen some of the journals I kept when I was like fifteen.'' She rolled her eyes. ''I do like this here, though,'' she said, holding the book up to him and pointing to one page. It was mostly blank, except for a few words written in ink near the bottom. '_I feel like I am always missing someone that I've never even met'. _Loki didn't remember writing the words, but he remembered the feeling that prompted them, a hollow yet strangely hopeful one.

''I've felt like this before,'' said Darcy softly, running her fingers over the page. Then she closed the book and got to her feet, still feeling restless. ''When we were in the Palace of Souls. And that awful doctor, she used to say, 'how can you miss someone that you've never met?' and I knew, I knew that you could, that feeling was a real one.'' She sighed. ''We're always more real than we know.''

''Did you have a good day today?'' he asked, after several moments spent pondering her words.

''It was alright. I just have that jumpy, restless feeling. It's so annoying.'' She heaved another sigh. He sat down on the chair.

Darcy had that look on her face, the one that told him she was gearing up to tell some long-buried story that she felt was somehow relevant. Loki waited patiently for her to begin, and was not disappointed. ''During my first week in college, I had a betta fish,'' she started. ''He was this beautiful gold color. I named him Tom. And then after a few weeks, he's starting to look a little sickly, but I was determined that he was going to pull through. So I literally went to the pet store and bought all this new food, and all this special crap to purify the water. I went back home and cleaned out his tank and put fresh gravel down. I'm telling you, I spent hours on this. And then of course the next day I get back from class and find him floating at the top of the tank. I cried. I actually _cried_ over this damned fish. I just felt so ridiculously helpless and frustrated.'' She hung her head, feeling stupid once again. Her hair fell over her face.

Loki nodded gently and smoothed his hand up and down her back, immediately understanding what she was trying to say. ''It didn't matter that it was a _fish_, it was that you tried so hard to save something, and it died anyway. That's frustrating. That's painful. No matter what you lose.''

Darcy seemed to be considering this as she stared at the floor. After a moment she raised her head, looked right into his eyes. ''I've been thinking about dinosaurs,'' she told him pointedly. ''And I don't like it.''

''Alright,'' he said, half-smiling patiently at her, waiting for round two.

She started to pace a little now as she re-started her rant. ''I mean, they were so big, and such the dominant life form on the planet. And then one day, all of a freaking sudden, a giant fireball comes flying out of nowhere and boom, no more dinosaurs. Just like that.'' She moved her hands though the air and then opened them to apparently illustrate an asteroid striking the earth.

Loki shrugged again. ''It _happens_, love. Extinctions are quite common. Perhaps not quite on so large and immediate a scale as what happened with those things.''

Darcy huffed in frustration. Her face fell, and she looked suddenly very young. ''It just makes me feel like...well, like the human race isn't very important, in the grand scheme of everything. One day we could all just be _gone_. Everything we built, our whole civilization...and then nothing.''

''This is a very gloomy line of thinking,'' Loki said. ''And not really a helpful one. It's not that the human race isn't important, of course they are. The...dinosaurs were important too, as you said, they were the dominant life form for a very long time. They had a good run. They may very well have continued to dominate for millions of years more, but sometimes...the universe is just a _bitch_, darling, remember?''

''At best it's indifferent...'' Darcy didn't want to think about the 'at worst' part of that particular statement. Loki knew why she was thinking about this. He knew that things back on Midgard were not good, to say the least. The human way of life was in dire jeopardy.

His tone of voice was very gentle as he spoke again. ''I know how you're feeling. But I do need to remind you that...you aren't human anymore. You understand that, right?''

She chewed on one of her fingernails. ''I know. But I was. For all of my life. I still feel human. That's not something that you forget. And it's frustrating. I don't really know exactly what...if I'm something more evolved, or something entirely different altogether. I don't know how you would classify me. I don't know what the baby is going to be, either.''

Loki pulled her fingers away from her mouth, took her hand in his. ''She's going to be _ours_. That's all we need to know. The best part of you and me.''

* * *

><p>The next day, after their lesson together, Darcy and Frigga walked through the palace. They took a lot of walks. Darcy realized that these actually helped to clear her head, gave her the opportunity to talk about whatever was on her mind. And Frigga would listen helpfully and supportively, making her always feel better about things. It was almost like having a mother, she realized. ''I had some things made for the baby,'' the Queen was saying. ''Clothes and furniture and so on. As we still don't know how long you'll be staying here, we need to be sure that the little one is comfortable.'' She smiled, and Darcy could see that she was very excited about being a grandmother. As they walked by, loud noise came from outside the window and Frigga rolled her eyes and the smile slid into a scowl. Then her eyes narrowed even further while she stared, and it looked to Darcy as if she were suddenly seeing something else, off in the distance, something that bothered her immensely. ''Do you mind walking back on your own, dear?'' she said. ''There's something I need to see to.''<p>

Darcy nodded. ''Sure.'' As Frigga departed in the other direction, towards her 'sewing' room, Darcy kept moving forward, towards all of the noises and the dust. She noticed the builder standing there, looking up at one of the doors. It was a very intense look, like he was studying it. Dust clung to his shoulders and hair, but he didn't seem to mind.

She decided to approach him. That bitingly insistent feeling in the back of her mind wasn't going away, in fact, it was only getting stronger now. The man didn't even seem to register her footsteps, didn't seem to care that there was someone else there.

''Did you ever build a palace before?'' she asked, uncertain where her bravery was coming from. Once she had spoken she realized that she'd phrased the question a little strangely. Her words hung in the air, the light and dust shone through them.

He finally looked up at her, blinking. ''Aye, I've built far greater palaces than this.''

''And what about prisons?'' Her eyes narrowed the slightest bit; she was still quite surprised at the questions that she was asking, they seemed to almost be asking themselves.

''I've had some experience with those too,'' came the reply. He was now staring at her quite intensely. He had oddly colored eyes, set in an otherwise blank and unremarkable face. They were a very pale blue, and that color filled her with an instantaneous feeling of foreboding.

Darcy had never been this close to the renovations before. Now she could see one of those infamously problematic doors very clearly. There were markings along the doorframes, she noticed, tiny etchings, so small that they'd probably gone unnoticed. A cold pit formed in her stomach as she looked closer at writing that was all too familiar. Her fingertips went numb as her heart crashed wildly. Instinctively, she started backing away. ''Oh no,'' she whispered.

**New York City**

Steve Rogers had never seen anything like this before. He had seen some terrifying things during the war, of course, but this... The city around him seemed to have turned into some dark, eerie woodcutting from plague times. The air was thick with dread, and something else, the smell of copper. Though the Captain steeled his mind to focus on the task at hand—protecting the city—he had to admit to being rather rattled. He turned and scanned the expanse of city street. Only a few vehicles were on the road, and if people needed to be out, they moved with a brisk fearfulness. Just up ahead, outside of a coffee shop, a young woman had been folding up a table and chairs that was set out on the small patio for customers. She looked around nervously, clearly trying to do her work as quickly as possible, not wanting to be outside for too long. Suddenly, a man showing the characteristics of the infected—cloudy eyes, pale skin, black drool—lunged at her from the pavement, grabbing her wrists and holding her. He seemed to be trying to say something to her, his mouth moved but Steve couldn't hear what he was saying. The woman didn't seem to care, she was screaming now, delirious with fear, trying to turn and run. He bolted forward.

Before he could intervene, a pretty light-skinned girl in a green apron came storming out the door holding a fire extinguisher. Steve dimly noticed that her name tag read 'Marla.' She discharged the cartridge into the eyes of the infected man, temporarily blinding him. Then she used her opportunity to drag the shell-shocked girl back into the store. Once she was safely inside, Marla grabbed Steve's arm and started to drag him along as well. ''No, I have to-'' he started. ''Fuck it!'' she screamed into his face. The Captain was so momentarily disoriented by this outburst that he allowed himself to be pulled into the store. Marla locked the door and then slumped wearily to the floor. She remained like that for a moment, then announced, ''I've had enough of this shit. I don't care what Corporate says, we're shutting this bitch down. Hey Remy,'' she called to a tall, terrified-looking barista behind the counter. ''Don't think I don't know about the Jameson you got hidden in your locker.'' Remy looked even more uncomfortable now. ''Bust it open and pour us a round,'' Marla finished wearily. ''And turn off this elevator music and play something good.''

Despite their best efforts to get him drunk, he of course remained stone sober, but Steve still found himself enjoying the brief company of the three baristas, Marla, Remy, and Caitlin. They were all sweet and lovely girls, he thought, just rather...crude at times, especially Marla. But, he reasoned, times had changed. His gaze was drawn to the window. Times had indeed changed. ''I'm afraid I really have to be going now,'' he told them politely. ''I have work to do.''

''Good on you for caring,'' Marla said tipsily, ''but I think this world has had it, Captain.'' With a resigned look on her face, she tossed back another shot of liquer. Steve stood. ''Not a chance,'' he said firmly, and walked towards the door. Marla saluted him as he departed, bolting the door behind him. She shook her head and looked over at the other two women. ''God Bless America,'' she said, then picked up the bottle again.

* * *

><p><strong>Norway<strong>

It was bad. There was now a state of emergency declared on almost the entire East Coast of the United States, and it was spreading further and further inland. There was no cure. The only thing to do was leave, hide, hope they wouldn't follow.

The Black Widow crossed through to check on Andrews on her way to one of the labs.''Stop fighting, pretty one, you're only making this harder.'' His lips twisted up into a smile as he spoke. She ignored him. She'd gotten used to ignoring him. Leaving her former assistant alone in his cell, Natasha opened the door to the brightly lit work station where Prudence was sitting at a desk, her fingers clattering against the keyboard. One of the large monitors on the wall showed the devastation which had occurred after they had fled. ''It's horrifying what can happen in eight months,'' she thought to herself as she looked at the footage from New York, Boston, Providence, and several other cities. They were like a war zone. She wondered what the infected were going to do once the whole country belonged to them. Move on to the rest of the world, she supposed.

The redhead took a sip from her fourth cup of coffee that day. ''Prudence, do we have those old records yet?''

Pru nodded. She stopped typing and sifted through a stack of papers on the desk beside her until she pulled out a large manilla folder, which she handed to the Black Widow.''Yes, they finally came. And photographs.''

Natasha opened it and emptied its contents. The photos fell out first. One was in black and white, a group of older men standing together outside, near what looked like a grove of trees. They were all well-dressed, looked to be men of means. ''Ok, there's Lord Walters, Lugh Retnick is next to him, there's Ethan Montauk...''

''We ran checks on the other men like you asked. They were all important, powerful. Bankers, business owners, government officials.'' Prudence tapped at one of the faces in the picture. ''See this guy here? He was part of what I guess would be considered 'proto-SHIELD', way back during WWII. I thought they were the good guys, what's he doing there?''

''I have no idea. But I think it has something to do with the Flood. Who's this woman?'' Natasha asked, pointing to a bat-faced, pinched-looking woman with hair pulled into a tight updo. She was smiling, but in an ugly sort of way.

''Evelyn Primrose, she was like Lord Walter's personal secretary and librarian or something like that,'' answered Pru.

''I don't like her,'' Natasha said definitively. ''Do some more digging.''

''Yes, Ma'am,'' replied Prudence. Natasha almost smiled. ''You'd make a good agent, you know.''

''No way,'' the younger woman said with a shake of her head. ''But all this _is_ gonna look hella good on my resume.''

* * *

><p><strong>Asgard<strong>

The air was suddenly too still. Until it wasn't. There was a tearing sound, as if the very air was being ripped violently apart. Each of the doorways pulsed and flashed with a beam of light. And then they came.

Darcy recognized them immediately as if from out of a nightmare—their tall, lean bodies and pale blue eyes, the pupils all but swallowed up behind their masks. The Anunnaki. In each of the other marked doorways that the builder had made they were now arriving, entering Asgard in droves. ''So that's why the doors were so important,'' she thought dully amid the terror that was churning all through her. As the builder stared blankly after her, useless puppet that he was, she turned and ran. Halfway down the corridor, Frigga appeared and caught her by the arm. Her finger came up to her mouth, motioning for her to be as silent as possible. Mind thrashing in terror like a tree branch in icy wind, Darcy followed the Queen, who led her around the corner and down a small, winding staircase. There was a door at the bottom, which was opened to reveal a small, sparsely furnished room with thick walls of reinforced stone and no windows. There was someone already there; it was Jane, pacing the floor with a panicked expression on her face.

''Quickly,'' Frigga said, gently pushing Darcy inside, ''you'll be safe in here._ Do not open this door_, do you understand?''

They nodded weakly. In a flash, the Queen was gone, and they heard the heavy latching of the door and then nothing else.

''What the hell are those things?'' asked Jane. Her hands were shaking.

Darcy shook her head. ''I don't know exactly what they are but they work for the Reckoner. The last time I saw them was in the Palace of Souls—they're super strong.'' She took several deep breaths to try to calm herself, reached out and held onto Jane's hand. Her whole body felt numb, except for the baby, who kicked urgently inside of her. _Loki, where are you? _She fell into that weird almost-praying state where she reached out to him with her mind, needing an answer, needing him to be there.

* * *

><p>The first thing that Loki heard was the screaming. The pounding of feet, running. Light, strange light, erupting madly from each of the new doorways, a familiar horror sliding through. <em>We let them in,<em> he thought dimly, as he realised what was happening, what had been happening under his nose the entire time. The god allowed himself only a single instant of terror and then snapped into furious action. Catching one of the guards who went rushing by, he demanded,_  
><em>

''Where is the Allfather?''

''He is gone, my lord!'' cried the young Asgardian in answer. ''Nowhere to be found.''

''Fine. We don't need him.'' His mind was reeling. How, how had he not seen? Loki quickly ducked behind one of the walls and tried to survey what was happening from there. A hand closed over his arm and he turned to see Frigga standing there.

''Where's Darcy?'' he asked, trying to control the frantic tone of his voice.

''She's safe, Jane is with her,'' the Queen assured him. ''They'll be fine, I promise. Right now, you need to focus. Your father isn't here right now, the realm is in our hands.'' She squeezed his arm harder, looked deeply into his eyes. ''I need you to be great, Loki,'' Frigga said. ''I need you to be more than you've ever been.''

He nodded, as his brain still screamed and howled with a thousand thoughts. This was because of him. Another thought, jagged, like broken glass lodged in his spleen: I am too selfish to save you all. But then he glanced over at his mother again, saw the look on her face, felt the pressure of her fingertips on his arm. _I need you to be more than you've ever been._ He steeled himself, pulled together all his rage, collected it like a weapon. ''I have this,'' he told Frigga. ''Go hide. Take as many people with you as you can, get them to safety.'' She nodded, gave his arm one last squeeze, and then vanished.

Loki took another deep breath, then slid over to where another guard stood, crouched behind the wall, peering out nervously. That eerie light was still pulsing in the doorway, he could see a few of the towering humanoids walking around like heavy shadows, looking for something. ''How many of them are there?'' he asked. The guard, who was young and looked terrified, babbled something incoherent. Loki shook him. ''How many?'' The young man simply stammered and Loki released him, shoving him backwards. ''Never mind, I'll find someone who isn't an idiot.'' _The training process here has gotten remarkably lax_, he thought. Fortunately soon he managed to get a hold of one who wasn't entirely useless. ''Where are Sif and the Warriors Three?'' he barked. This new guard shook his head. ''All in Svartalfheim, my lord,'' he replied. ''They've been having more uprisings along the border.''

''Damn it. We need-''

Just then, as if summoned, there came a loud, booming crack of thunder. Loki almost smiled.


	28. Chapter 28

**Hi everyone! Here is the next chapter for you! I think you'll like it, or at least I hope! :)**

* * *

><p><em>What's madness but nobility of soul<em>

_At odds with circumstance?_

**-Theodore Roethke**

''What is happening?'' Thor demanded. Upon arriving back on Asgard, he had already smashed through about three of the invaders and left them twitching and smoking uselessly on the ground. Luckily, the god of thunder was completely unfazed by being thrown directly into battle. Now he spoke with Loki as they hid behind a raised wall, giving them a good vantage point from which to view everything. ''What are they?''

''I don't know exactly, but I've seen them before,'' Loki answered in a tight voice as they surveyed the scene. Though he might never admit it, he was incredibly glad to see his would-be brother again.

''What do they want?'' continued Thor, watching one of the creatures skulk by, its head roving from side to side. ''They're obviously looking for something.''

''It doesn't matter.'' The edge of Loki's words was very sharp. ''They're all about to die.''

The thunder god seemed satisfied by this answer.''Well then,'' he said with a nod. ''Let's get to it.''

Together they assembled all of the guards that they could, it was unfortunate that Asgard's defences were a little thin at the moment due to all the problems in other realms. The unforeseen nature of the invasion had taken everyone by surprise, nobody, not even Heimdall, had seen it until it was too late. Loki tried desperately to not waste energy hating himself for being so blind. There would be plenty of time for that later. He would not fail today, he knew. He would be utterly merciless.

''These things are strong,'' Loki explained to them. It was his responsibility to lead, it seemed, even though Thor had returned, he had no experience with the enemy that they were facing. ''They are more machine than flesh. As I understand it, they cannot breath the air. Try to aim for their masks.'' Then he turned back to Thor. ''We need to destroy the doors, every entrance that was recently built. That's how they're getting in.'' The blond nodded, lifting his hammer. ''I'll see to it. You try to keep them distracted.''

''I don't think that will be a problem,'' Loki muttered, as a sudden searing bolt of energy tore through the air and struck a pillar beside them, narrowly missing one of the guards.

The Anunnaki were clearly armed, and they put up a fight. Not just the Reckoner's worker bees, they were apparently warriors as well. They all carried a small yet very powerful device which emitted a sonic pulse that could stun, burn, or incapacitate whoever it hit. Loki knew that these new adversaries were essentially mechanical, they had shut down before, in the Palace of Souls. He just needed to find out where their power source was located. It was difficult to get close enough, to sneak up on the towering humanoids without drawing their attention. He would have to be clever about it, Loki knew, so he tried a different tactic. Mentally, he scanned over the invaders, looking for an energetic hot spot to indicate a power core. There it was, on the right side of their chests, glowing just beneath the collar bone. He threw out a bolt of energy, it struck one of the Anunnaki just as it was raising its weapon. It stalled, then fell uselessly to the ground.

Loki ran to one of the guards. ''Use arrows, hit them on the right side below the neck.'' The man nodded and went off to inform the others.

* * *

><p>Darcy and Jane had been locked in the safe room for what seemed like hours, even though in reality it was probably only several long minutes. Jane paced the stone floor nervously. Every so often there would come a great crash from beyond the door, the sound of feet pounding and shouting. The unmistakeable noise of battle. Suddenly, a very strange sensation went through Darcy. Then she felt a flood of wetness running down her legs. Her heart sank and dull panic overtook her, flooding her veins.''Oh no,'' she said, clutching at her stomach. ''God no, not now!''<p>

''What is it—oh god,'' Jane said, eyes widening as she realized what was happening. Darcy shook her head wildly. ''I can't, I can't, not now, not here...'' she babbled, not willing to accept the situation. She _couldn't_ give birth locked in a room in the middle of an invasion, especially not without Loki.

Jane tried to take charge of the situation as best she could.''Ok, ok, you're going to be fine. Look at me. Take deep breaths, in and out. There you go.'' The scientist led her former assistant over to the sturdiest part of the room, in the alcove in the corner. ''Now just sit down and try to relax.''

''Try to relax, you've gotta be kidding me.'' Darcy sucked in mouthfuls of air, trying to ignore the pain that was now gathering, building in waves. ''This whole day is FUBAR, I swear to god. Why does everything always happen at once?''

''That's a question for the ages,'' said Jane with a shake of her head. ''Keep breathing.''

''Those things, they came for me. He wants me back, I know it, he found us here. Don't let him hurt her,'' she was begging and crying.

''Nobody is going to get you,'' Jane said sternly, sitting down on the floor beside her, flipping up Darcy's long skirt. In outrage, she pulled it back down. The scientist rolled her eyes. ''Don't flatter yourself, missy, I just need to see what's happening. You're going to be fine, but I need you to be brave.''

Darcy was still shaking her head, crying and praying and calling for Loki, trying to ignore the staggering waves of agony that continued to build and build with an astonishing quickness. ''Come on!'' yelled Jane, forcing her to focus. ''I need you to work with me here! Don't make me slap you!'' With a small, sharp cry of indignation, she hiked her skirt up around her waist and yanked off her underwear.

''I'm supposed to like, sit up or something,'' Darcy explained, then let out a sharp wail as she was hit by another powerful contraction. ''Eir said so.''

''Well, Eir isn't here right now, so we're just going to have to do it the American way. Lay on your back,'' the astrophycisist instructed.

Unable to help it, Darcy let out a cough of hysterical laughter.

''Nice to see that your sense of humor is still intact,'' Jane said dryly. ''Now lay down.''

More spasming, painful contractions wracked her as she leaned backwards. ''Oh, shit, oh shit,'' she pain was hard to describe, but far worse was the fear, which threatened to strangle her.

''Breathe, Darcy!'' Jane ordered her. Forcing herself to suck in a few even breaths, she then gasped out, ''You need to go get Loki. I mean like, right now!''

Jane shook her head. ''He can't get here, and you know it. He needs to help the realm, and besides, I'd never make it. We have to stay here for now, it's probably the safest place to be.'' To illustrate this point, several feet away a small chunk of the ceiling clattered to the ground, they watched it fall from where they were safely hidden in the alcove.

''No, no, no, I can't...I can't do this without him!'' Tears spilled from Darcy's eyes. She didn't feel strong at all, she felt like she was about to implode, both mentally and physically.

''Yes, you can,'' Jane said sternly. ''You're going to be fine, but you have to be _brave_, and focus. Keep breathing.'' Giving a weak nod, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breath, trying to centre herself somehow. Then, with all the energy she could spare, she tuned in fully to the connection between their minds, and called for him, over and over.

* * *

><p>Darcy was now practically shrieking at Loki through the connection of their minds. The message that she was trying to send hit him so hard that he almost staggered as he realized what was happening. Joy, panic, terror, rage and love, all at once, coalesced into a single, blindingly powerful emotion as he understood that their lives were about to change, amid all of this madness. But he also knew: he might not be able to reach her. There was too much else to be done, he was trapped, mired in a responsibility that he did not want, not any longer. Damn Odin for leaving, this was one of his games, his lessons, Loki knew, and that filled the god with a new wave of fury so intense that it made his teeth ache in his skull.<p>

Their surroundings had devolved to pure and utter chaos, and Loki drew strength from this. It filled him with a ridiculously strong jolt of manic energy. Bodies littered the floor now, all of them Anunnaki. There had been several injuries, but miraculously, no casualties on the Asgardian side. Most of the doorways had been demolished, now it looked like half of the palace had essentially collapsed. Loki could barely even register exactly what was going on, he was acting purely on wild instinct, willing himself to become a near-unstoppable force, fighting chaos with chaos in an attempt to force the beastly universe to right itself, regain order.

''Hurry!'' he ordered, darting over to his brother's side. ''I'm...I'm about to become a father.''

Thor was still using his hammer to demolish one of the many doorframes. It was one of the last, there were only a few more that remained standing. ''Well yes I know, and that's wonderful, but now isn't really the time to-''

''Yes, you great oaf, now is the time, that's what I'm telling you! The baby is coming; literally, at this moment.''

Thor's eyes widened a bit with understanding. He nodded and then they both turned and continued their work. Loki was sharp and quick and mean, like a viper; almost graceful in his ruthlessness as he attacked the last remaining invaders in his sight.

It filled him with glee as he watched the newly-built walls collapse into piles of rubble, all those wasted hours, those moments that he would never get back. All that time, spent overseeing his own would-be doom. Never again.

One of the last Anunnaki standing appeared larger than the others, and nobody seemed to have been able to take him out yet. Loki could hear Darcy screaming in the back of his mind, and the sound prompted him to action. Finally he managed to knock the enormous invader to the ground, injuring him enough to become temporarily immobilised. A large, sharp and heavy piece of marble from the collapsed structure lay a few inches away. Loki quickly snatched it up and turned over, smashing it through the front of the respirator mask that covered its face and all the way through until the Anunnaki stopped twitching and lay absolutely still in a smoking pile of fluid and machinery.

''I think we're done here,'' Loki said, looking around at the wreckage for just a moment. Inside his mind, he could feel both Darcy and the baby, hear the pounding of two heartbeats. Once he could find his footing again, he sprinted down the hall, through the rubble, running as fast as he could until he reached her. ''Wait,'' Thor called, following after him.

''I'm not waiting,'' he called over his shoulder. ''You're just going to have to move faster.''

* * *

><p>''<em>Do you even know what you're doing<em>?'' Darcy screamed at Jane, who was now crouched directly in front of her open legs, most definitely getting an eyeful.

''Probably not, but how hard can it be?'' the scientist retorted, looking closely. ''Women have been doing this for thousands of years, way before science or medicine even existed.''

''Yes but they _died_ all the time!'' she wailed.

''You're not going to die. Nobody's going to die today, except for those tall alien bastards, I hope. Ok, I can see the head!'' Jane blinked in surprise. ''Wow, that's disgusting and weird.''

''Don't criticize my baby's head!'' shrieked Darcy.''Just...look away.''

''I can't look away, you moron, I have to see what's going on so I can help you. Trust me, I'm not getting any thrills out of this, either. Shut up and breathe! Wow...ok...''

''Oh my freaking god it hurts so bad...'' she bit down on her lip, tried to keep from crying but it was useless. Darcy was so caught up in the pain and pressure that she didn't even hear Jane yelling at her, telling her, ''_Push_!''

She blinked wildly, protesting. ''No, I don't think...''

''Push now, dammit!''

Darcy let out a loud, drawn out scream as she gave in and pushed, feeling like her body was being torn down the center.

''That's good!'' Jane said encouragingly. ''Now again!''

A few more hard pushes that almost made her see stars, a few more moments of blinding, searing pain that was hard to describe, and then, then, she heard the sound of shrill crying slicing through the air.

''Is she ok?'' Darcy gasped out as she looked over through the sheen of tears and sweat that was blinding her and saw Jane holding a tiny, shrieking little baby covered in disgusting goop. _There she is, _she thought. _I did it. We did it. _As wrinkled and red-face as she was, she was the most beautiful thing in the world. _Loki, you should see her._

''Give her to me,'' she begged, and Jane, still wide eyed and disbelieving, handed over the child. Darcy started crying again. ''We're such a mess,'' she said, looking down at herself briefly, and then quickly looking away, holding her daughter close against her chest, trying to wipe away the slime from her face. ''There's all kinds of gross biology going on here, what do we do? Don't we need to cut the umbilical cord or something, I mean, she's still attached, and there's all this other weird stuff...''

Jane held up her hands, which were covered in blood and who knew what else. ''I'm not cutting anything, I don't have anything sharp, and besides, I think this is as far as I go. Listen, it's getting quiet...do you think...''

There came the sudden sound of the door being unbolted and then it swung open to reveal both Loki and Thor. Jane let out a laugh full of weary surprise when she saw the god of thunder. ''Go get Eir,'' Loki ordered him. ''I'll come with you,'' said Jane, hurrying after him. Darcy smiled as she watched them quickly depart.

''When did he get here?'' she asked.

''Just in time, actually,'' Loki admitted, sitting down on the floor beside her. Or rather, beside them. In her arms she was holding their baby, who was crying at the top of her lungs. It seemed unreal, made him a little dizzy, that it had happened, this shrieking bloody creature was his daughter.

''Did we win?'' Darcy wondered.

''Oh yes, we won,'' he assured her, leaning over and pressing his lips against hers. _For now_, whispered a voice in his mind, but he shook it away.

''I wish I could have been with you,'' he murmured, running his fingers through her sweaty, tangled hair, unable to help feeling more than a little cheated by the circumstance.

She smiled gently. ''You were, in a way, you always are. And I'm so proud of you,'' Darcy added. ''I'm proud of both of us.''

Eir and her attendants came hurrying over as soon as it was safe to do so, the Healer whisked both she and the baby away to the Chambers. The Healing Chambers were very busy, there were many wounded that needed to be tended to as well. Loki hung back outside the door, waiting until the healer told him that he could go inside. As he paced restlessly, he heard a familiar voice and then turned to see Frigga standing there. She threw her arms around him and he returned the embrace, relieved to see her safe. ''You did so well,'' she whispered into his ear. ''I'm very proud of you, my son.'' She pulled away from him, smiling. ''And congratulations,'' she added, tears of pride and happiness shimmering in her eyes.

''It's not over is it?'' Loki asked her. She shook her head, but refused to let the smile slide off of her face. ''It is over for today,'' the Queen told him firmly. ''Don't think on it right now. Don't let it spoil your joy. Your life is going to change, but for the better. Now, go see them,'' she added, pushing him in the direction of the doors to the Healing Chamber, which opened as he approached. Eir stuck her head out and motioned him inside, smiling.

In one of the larger healing capsules lay Darcy, wrapped in a soft robe. The lights of the capsule glowed around her. In her arms she held their little girl, who he could now see more clearly now that she'd been cleaned off. She was still, sleeping peacefully, so tiny and pink and sweet-looking.

Darcy's eyes fluttered open as he approached. ''Did you pick a name?'' she asked in a thick, sleepy voice.

''I thought we could call her Avalon, like that island in your book,'' he said. He'd been mulling it over for some time, he'd been struggling with names and it had come to him one night. As soon as Darcy heard the name spoken, she knew it was perfect. ''Avalon,'' she repeated softly to herself in a whisper. ''Avalon. I love it.''

Eir came then and gently lifted the sleeping child out of Darcy's arms. ''You need your rest now,'' she said, then turned and handed the baby to Loki. ''Hold your daughter. I'll be outside if you need anything.''

Taking the child into his arms very cautiously, he looked down at her, finally allowing himself to feel the love that had been threatening to crush him. She was so small, so fragile, yet also lovely with her little nose and mouth, the fine dusting of black hair on her head.''You're going to have to be very patient with me,'' he told her with a sigh. Her delicate eyelids fluttered open at the sound of his voice; Avalon stared back at him with eyes that were a soft and deep forest green colour, seeming very aware, as if she were listening and understanding. ''I don't care much for fathers, and I don't know how to be one. To be honest, you terrify me,'' he added, gazing at her tiny face. ''I feel like I'm going to disappoint you. No—I _know_ that I'm going to disappoint you. And I am sorry. I can't promise that I won't make mistakes, I've made many, and I'll probably make a thousand more before my life is done. What I can promise you is the same thing that I promised your mother. To protect you both and keep you safe for as long as there is breath in my body.'' Loki cuddled her closer against him, marvelling at how warm she was. For a moment he was afraid that the coldness of his skin would bother her, but she didn't seem to mind. She was drifting off to sleep again. ''You're warm like her,'' he said, with a lingering glance over at Darcy, who was also dreaming deeply. Though he fought them, tears came to his eyes. ''Damn,'' he swore softly, looking back down at his sleeping daughter. He was at his most vulnerable at that moment, so much that he felt like he could crumble into a million pieces, yet somehow, in the midst of that pained vulnerability lay a core of something else. Loki could feel power inside of him, vaster and very unlike anything he'd ever known, some incredible strength that had been locked away, waiting.

* * *

><p><strong>A Few Days Later<strong>

The rubble was slowly being cleared away. All of the Anunnaki were burned. Some had suggested that they should be kept for study and research purposes but Loki was adament that every trace of them be completely destroyed. The builder seemed to have, infuriatingly, vanished without a trace, and though there was a very large reward out for his capture, nobody really expected him to turn up anywhere.

Loki was left with a thousand anxious thoughts. Clearly, Asgard was no longer safe. They'd been attacked there once, it was only a matter of time before the Reckoner found another way in, and then they might not be so lucky. For now, though, they were temporarily forced to stay and this made him wary, on edge. Running wasn't going to be an option anymore, he knew. The time for stalling and hiding was over. They were simply going to have to find a way to fight, to end it once and for all. His mind was once again haunted with thoughts of old parchment and dark magic, strange ghostly images from the past and present both. The god of mischief did not concern himself with the politics or daily business of Asgard in any way, he made it abundantly clear that he was not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. He was going to make up for all the time that he had missed with Darcy. And then...they were going to have to figure out a way to complete the assignment that they had been given in what seemed now like another life, all while keeping their unexpected and beautiful child safe from harm.

Avalon woke often throughout the night, and that was the time that Loki would get up and take care of her, letting Darcy get the sleep that she needed. He hadn't been sleeping much anyhow, and he found that his daughter's presence soothed his mind.

He held her quietly in those early hours of the morning, walked with her down the long, silent hallways and told her everything, confessed his sins and misdeeds and fears, and she listened, absorbing it all. When he was done, she reached up towards him and brushed her tiny fingers against his chin and he knew that he was forgiven.

It was as they were returning from one of their walks that Loki had a very unexpected visitor.

''You may have pushed them back for now, but he's not gone,'' came a familiar voice from out of the silvery blue shadows behind him. He turned and set Avalon down in her crib, then moved protectively in front of it and glared at the unwelcome, ghostly outline of Lugh Retnick. ''What do you want?''

The specter simply shook his head. ''Only to give you a friendly warning. It isn't going to hold forever. You will be given a brief spring, a reprieve, but then winter will creep up behind you while you're not looking. You will be so wrapped up in loving them, you might forget to watch for it.'' He smiled, and the smile made him look more human in death than he ever had in his long, long life.

''You still miss Anna Lily, don't you?'' Loki found himself saying. Despite everything, he had always found it strangely easy to carry on a conversation with the cult leader.

Retnick gave a nod. ''Every moment. But I have always been patient. I know that one day, I _will_ see her again. She will come running towards me with open arms, smiling as if nothing could possibly be wrong. I wait for that day. I will wait as long as it takes.'' His head drooped a bit. ''I only ever wanted to protect her. You understand that now, don't you? I love my daughter.''

He hated admitting it, but he did understand, all too well. He nodded at Retnick.

''There will be no safe harbour for you in the universe,'' added the spirit. ''Not unless you stop him. He will pursue you to the ends of time.''

Loki drew himself up and glared. ''Let him come, I'm ready.''

Retnick gave a light chuckle at this. ''No, no you're not. But you will be. At least I can hope so.'' He seemed to sigh as his gaze traveled down to the infant in the crib. ''I was once a father too. I hope you're ready for your heart to break.'' And then he was gone, leaving only fading blue shadows in the room.


	29. Chapter 29

**Hey everyone! Sorry that it took so long to update this month, life has been crazy as usual! I hope that you all had wonderful holidays and that you have a very happy New Year! I hope that you like this chapter, please let me know!**

* * *

><p><em>All your life you live so close to truth, it becomes a permanent blur in the corner of your eye, and when something nudges it into outline it is like being ambushed by a grotesque.<em>

**-Tom Stoppard**

**England**

Evelyn Primrose opened the door to the Library of the Damned. The light flicker of a smile danced on her bat-like face as she did so. She had made a promise to Stanwell Walters and had kept it for all the unnaturally long years of her life, the latter half of which had been spent serving as a tour guide for the Walter's Estate. Only a single gate had yet been opened, and it was one of several. Evelyn and Stanwell had long served the Ones who were here before, the Ones Who Owned the Land. It was only right to return it to them, they had been too long in exile. The human race had done very little with the gift they were given, in fact they contributed more to destruction than anything else. Now, that was all about to change. Soon, the Restoration would be complete, everywhere.

Evelyn's smile grew wider as she walked into the dusty, ancient room. There was a hidden door on the far wall, and it led down a corridor to a secret chamber. The chamber was built over the Oldest Place, a sacred place, the most sacred on the entire property. The Walters Estate had been strategically built over a series of energetic hot spots that helped to fuel the magic, the work that they were doing. Led by flickering candlelight, she paused and pulled out an old, jagged knife. Evelyn didn't even flinch as she sliced a line along the palm of her hand and began to walk in a circle. Letting the blood trickle down onto the ground, she muttered a very old incantation, the one that she had been waiting so long to recite. She hoped that she had made Stanwell proud. Wind kicked up, blowing round the circle as it began to open. Her smile grew wider.

* * *

><p><strong>Asgard<strong>

Darcy woke early one morning and nearly had a heart attack when she realized that Avalon wasn't in her crib. Throwing a robe around her shoulders she ran out of the room and practically sprinted down the hall until she paused and let out a sigh of relief. Just a few feet away, she could see Loki standing by the large window, holding their little girl. He seemed to be saying something to her, was pointing at something out in the distance with his free arm while he cradled her close to him with the other. A smile crept across Darcy's mouth, a warm and happy feeling spread through her. He turned then, smiling also. ''Good morning,'' he said, walking over and handing the baby to her. ''I was scared,'' she admitted, feeling a little silly. ''I woke up and I didn't see her...'' she trailed off, shaking her head. ''I should have known that you were taking care of her, I just...after everything...''

''I know, love, I know,'' he said understandingly. ''And you're not wrong. In our case, we're going to have to be a little extra cautious.'' He looked at Darcy, studying her face. ''Did you sleep well?''

''I slept ok,'' she admitted. Her dreams were strange and loud and faded annoyingly before they could be recalled, but at least they weren't overtly terrifying. Cuddling the baby against her, Darcy asked, ''So, what were you guys up to?''

''Sometimes when she wakes up we take a walk,'' he replied. ''I think she likes it, it always seems to calm her down.''

Darcy realised that it also calmed Loki down, and she smiled at this. Despite all of his hang-ups and hesitations, she knew that he was going to be a wonderful father. She herself wasn't sure about how great of a mom she was going to be, but she supposed that with time, she would have to learn. The thing that she'd hadn't been expecting was how much more _worried_ she was all the time now. It seemed laughable, actually, considering all the terrifying circumstances that she'd had to face in the past-and present-but having a child just amplified it all.

They both kept Avi, as they had nicknamed her, incredibly close. Many palace attendents offered to care for the child, but Darcy and Loki declined, not wanting to hand her over to anyone but Frigga or Jane, even for a short amount of time. Theirs was a quiet baby, very pensive and aware. One look in her eyes and it was obvious that she was special, an old soul. She was also growing at what seemed to be an alarming rate, but Eir assured Darcy that this was normal. ''It will seem that her growth is accelerated for a little while, but it's always like that in the beginning. It will gradually slow. Remember, she is not a normal child, so you can't compare her development to that of ordinary Midgardian children, or even Asgardian children for that matter.'' This was relatively comforting to Darcy, but it still felt like a bit of a cheat. But then she reminded herself that they would have many, many years with their little girl, more than human families had with their children, and so she should be grateful.

''Do you think we're going to change now?'' she asked Loki one night when they were cloistered again in their room. Darcy was sitting in the chair, nursing Avi under a blanket. Despite how natural breastfeeding was supposed to be, it still felt remarkably _weird, _and though she tried not to be, she was shy about it. He raised his head to look at her. ''How do you mean?''

''Do you think we're going to be stuffy boring parents?'' she elaborated. She'd been thinking wistfully back to a time of delightful bohemian debauchery, of travel and art and too much wine and naughty photographs and stiletto heels in bed. And then Darcy looked down at herself, at her child, and tried to reconcile it all in her mind. It was hard to feel so young and so old at the same time.

''I don't think we're ever going to be stuffy and or boring,'' Loki replied with a smile. ''But we are changed, there's no denying that. Before, we could afford to be a little bit reckless in some of our endeavors and we don't have that luxury now. Everything changes. This time, I think its for the better.''

''Are we not going to be as passionate as we were before?'' asked Darcy, only mostly joking. Hopefully there would still yet be plenty of time for stiletto heels in bed. She wasn't in the grave, after all.

Loki gave her a crooked look. ''I think that we're going to be as passionate as ever, probably more so. That's just who were _are_. This is simply the next chapter in a very long story.''

_How does it end? _She wondered, but only to herself.

* * *

><p>One day, a very short time later, Odin mysteriously returned from wherever he had been. Naturally, he kept his whereabout unknown and now acted as if he'd never been gone at all and nothing had happened in his absence, though there were huge, gaping holes in the palace which definitely suggested otherwise. They didn't see him at all until one morning. The sky was a bright grey colour, looked cold. Darcy sat in the Hall at a table, Avi in her arms and a book spread out in front of her. Her research had begun again in earnest, she was desperately clutching at any potentially useful thread of information. She rocked the baby a little bit and then turned the page. Suddenly she heard footsteps. Avi stirred and Darcy looked up to see the Allfather standing there. She couldn't help it, she rolled her eyes at him. ''Welcome back,'' she muttered, her voice oozing sarcasm. He moved forward, help out his arms. ''May I?''<p>

Sighing, Darcy stood and very grudgingly handed the baby to him, remaining very close. Odin held Avalon carefully, studied her quietly and thoughtfully for a few moments. She seemed to be doing the same to him. ''It's interesting,'' he said finally. ''Most children tend to look more like one parent or the other, but she looks exactly like the both of you.''

Darcy nodded stiffly. ''Yep, she does.''

''You know, I never thought Loki would ever have any children, and certainly not with a Midgardian.''

_Maybe you're not so all-knowing after all,_ she thought darkly. His bright blue eye met hers suddenly and she wondered if he had heard that particular thought.

''Gods are often selfish beings, and when they get angry, worlds get destroyed,'' Odin continued. ''You are fortunate that you understand what it is like to be human, that fragility. And through you, Loki understands it as well. I think that now, he actually has more respect for your kind than he does for us.''

''Gee,'' Darcy said lamely. ''I wonder why.''

Odin peered at her curiously. ''You're not afraid of me,'' he noted.

''No,'' came her honest answer. ''I'm annoyed by you, by your attitude, but especially by the way that you treat Loki.'' She felt stupidly brave, and so she added, ''and I know he'll be a better father than you ever were.''

He didn't say anything, just kept staring at her. She refused to break the gaze. After everything she had been put through, Darcy wasn't about to cave under the Allfather's look. Then he handed Avi back to her and turned to walk away. When he was almost at the door, he turned back just for an instant, and she could swear that he smiled.

* * *

><p>Loki was right about one thing, they didn't get boring. In fact, they were closer than they had ever been, and their conversations, which Darcy had always adored, grew longer and more animated. No new parent was ever allowed much sleep, and the immortal were no exception. Though Avi was typically a good sleeper, she did wake with a screech several times during the night. Now Darcy got up too, and this allowed she and Loki time to talk and laugh. She actually came to relish this time, those weird in-between hours of the very early morning. This one particular night, the conversation had somehow drifted to classic Midgardian literature.<p>

''I hated _Wuthering Heights_'', Darcy admitted with a laugh. She had, too, when she had been forced to read it for a seminar. One particular time, she and Prudence had gotten quite drunk and had run around their dorm at two in the morning. Darcy would end up on one side and scream ''Heathcliffe!'' and on the other Pru would scream ''Kathy!'' and they went back and forth like a bizarre game of Marco-Polo. ''It was about two horrible, selfish people who got exactly what they deserved and for some reason people call it a love story. That wasn't love.''

''Obsession can sometimes disguise itself as love,'' Loki reasoned. ''It's only when you look closer that you see its all broken and jagged at the edges. All it does is slice. Love slices at you too, but it also heals you, stitches you back together and kisses the pain away. If you're lucky, that is.''

She smiled at him. ''Well said. You're becoming quite poetic.''

''You once told me that a poet is just someone who can see things differently,'' he replied, returning the smile. It was one of his honest smiles. There seemed to be a lot more of those, lately.

Darcy soon began to nod off where she was sitting in the chair, collecting a few minutes of sleep before the baby woke again.

Loki watched the firelight moving, it helped him think. His thoughts swirled together like shadows: the woods, those dark trees, men chanting evil prayers, the sound lifting on the air. He thought about wanting, he thought about obsession, longing beyond all reason. As he continued to watch, a moth fluttered by. It batted its wings and moved perilously closer and closer to the light, despite the threat of the flames. Closer, closer still. And then, he finally realised a flaw in the Reckoner's design. Getting to his feet, Loki began to pace quietly. Stirring quietly and opening her eyes, Darcy noticed this, knew that he must be thinking deeply about something. ''What is it?'' she whispered. He paused and then went to sit down beside her. ''I was thinking about the Reckoner,'' he told her softly. ''What if...what if we made him come to us?''

Her brow furrowed deeply in confusion. ''What, like invite him here?'' She shook her head with a great intensity. The thought made her shudder. ''I don't think that's going to work.''

''Why not?''

''Think about it,'' Darcy began. ''He's always sending people to do his dirty work for him, that's why this last time he sent the Anunnaki instead of coming himself. It doesn't seem as if he can go very far anymore, possibly he's weakening and he knows it, which is the main reason why this whole huge apocalyptic Restoration is so important to him. He'll get enough souls to power him and that Palace for thousands of years. He'll be a god on earth again.''

''But there are other things now that are possibly more important,'' Loki said. ''We're lucky that he's so obsessed with us, or at least with you. As awful as that is, we may actually be able to use it to our advantage. Obsession clouds judgement. He'll come. We just have to wait, until we're sure that we can trap him without difficulty. But first...I need to see those cells, the ones on the edges of the Void.'' He made a face at the thought. ''I need to know what's been coming and going through there, or if they might be of any use.''

Later on that day, Loki did just that. In order to get there he had to descend through a tunnel at the furthest end of the dungeons. This in turn led down to catacombs, and then to more narrow passages that grew older and grimmer the further down he followed them, until he was at the very boundaries of Asgard. There was always a place where one realm ended and another began, and in between was the Void. The path up ahead of him was jagged and crumbling, and Loki was mindful of his footing. In the distance was the edge and then there was nothing but a span of grey and then beyond that the screaming of the vast, awaiting emptiness.

''This is an ancient place. Who dares to disturb the silence here?'' came a wet, raspy voice. It belonged to the tunnel guard; he was a short, stooped, ugly little man who resembled a gnarled tree stump. He held probably the least respected position in all of Asgard. When the cells fell into decay and were no longer under the jurisdiction of the dungeon master, a single, lonely post was established to watch over the very furthest edge of the realm. Nobody worried about an invasion through that way, so the position was really an arbitrary one.

''Loki of Asgard,'' he answered. ''And for the record, it's hardly _silent_ here.''

''Move closer into the light,'' demanded the guard, and Loki moved forward. The man's eyes widened just a bit and he frowned. ''All right, it is you,'' he said gruffly. ''I had to be sure. I haven't been part of the usual goings-on in the palace for some time now, you know, they like to keep me down here as a punishment.''

''You were a thief,'' Loki told him with a shrug. ''They could have just kept you in the dungeons forever.''

The guard laughed. It was a hideous sound, like mud squelching beneath a boot. ''That would have been a mercy. You've seen those dungeons,'' he added pointedly, then gestured around. ''Fine accommodations compared to this, don't you think. No, no, my lord, _these_ are the real dungeons.'' He smiled. ''And so if you're here then you must be looking for something mighty unwholesome, eh?'' He lifted an eyebrow.

''Take me to the oldest cells,'' Loki ordered.

''What does the prince want with that awful place?'' the guard asked with a shudder.

''That's not your concern. Lead me there, now, and I will see to it that they let you out into the light every once in awhile.''

He seemed to be considering it, and then turned with a sigh and motioned Loki to follow after. ''Better light a torch, for all the good it'll do,'' he muttered.

Down, down for yet more miles they went, to the secret dungeon on the border of the Void. Their surroundings grey even more menacing, if that was possible. It was narrow, grey, creaky, filled with abysmal shadows, awful echoes, the ever-closer howling of Nothingness just beyond. There were more tunnels than Loki had realized, secret ones, and they wound on for miles. He had never quite understood before how permeable the walls of the world were. Secret ways, in and out. Then they reached the cells. There were several, inside the stone of the walls like caves with bars. He was going to have to climb up in order to get a look inside. Luckily, he was quite good at climbing, he'd always been better than Thor or even Sif, because he was lighter, faster, and more graceful than all of them when he wanted to be. As the guard let out a sound of protest, Loki leaped up and caught onto one edge of the stone. Though worn down, there were indentations that may have been stairs thousands of years before, and these helped him get his footing, made it remarkable easy for him to get up to one of the cells. The worn old door hung creakingly open. ''Please be careful my lord!'' the guard wailed from several feet below. ''I don't know how I'll explain this if anything were to happen to you.''

''The Allfather would probably reward you handsomely,'' Loki called back to him.

There was something strange about these cells. Despite everything that he had been told, it looked like they _had_ been used more recently. He remembered what the old drunken dungeon master had told him about hearing scratching noises. He frowned and crouched down to get a closer look.

''The prisoners were kept here with old magic, strong magic, but even that degrades over time,'' he heard the guard say. Loki twisted around and stared down at him.''There were others though, my lord,'' he added, hesitating and smiling and licking his lips. ''From further below. So many hidden ways. These are the oldest places.'' He craned his neck as he looked up at the miles of cells. ''The mind plays tricks on you down here. Dark enchantments.''

Ignoring the man's ramblings, Loki turned his attentions back to the interior of the cell. Slime, dark ooze along the walls. The smell of copper and nightmares. It was more like a cage, small, with bars that appeared to be rotting. Inside, on the stone walls, certain overlapping runic sigils were carved. They were strong bind runes, selected specifically to keep whoever or whatever had been there from escaping, even if bars could not. Whether they had worked completely was another matter. Loki could sense certain weak spots in the fabric of the spells that had been woven. Though they were small, they were possibly just large enough to let things pass through one at a time. Mulling all of this over, he swung around and climbed back down. Once his feet were on more solid ground again, he gestured past the rows of cells. ''What's beyond this?'' he asked.

The guard shook his head. ''Nothing you can reach. This is as far as we can go.''

''Could you give me at least a rough estimation of how long these particular cells been down here?''

The man gave a little cough.''These? The oldest places? There's nobody alive who can answer that, not even the Allfather. They were just _here_, always here.''

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Back at headquarters, Steve Rogers was sitting deeply in thought, trying to ignore the music that Tony Stark was playing loudly throughout the room as he gathered more supplies. Stark had come back to the city for what he was sure would probably be the last time in a long while. Soon they were going to be grounding all flights until further notice, as the government essentially began to quarantine the entire East Coast, for all the good it would do. The sound blaring out of Stark's iPod made the Captain recall one of the songs that the girls in the coffee shop had been playing, ''Helter Skelter,'' by the Beatles, and this in turn made him think of something. ''What was Fury doing in England?'' asked Steve. ''When he left before, right when all of this started. Where did he go?''

Stark looked up at him curiously. ''How do you know he was in England?''

''I checked the flight data.'' The Captain shrugged. ''Something about it all didn't add up.''

Tony looked proud. ''I taught you well, grasshopper.''

Steve rolled his eyes in response. ''I'd ask Natasha about that, to be honest,'' Stark added. ''There is some sort of weird connection to England underlying all of this...started back with that case Loki and Darcy were working, just like everything else.''

Rogers nodded. ''All right. I'll ask. I just have this feeling that it's all so much...deeper than we realise.''

From up on the wall in one corner of the room, the television was blaring news feeds full of nonsense. Tony laughed bitterly.

''Ha! First it was weaponized rabies. Now they're saying it's similar to what causes mad cow disease.'' He shook his head.

''Mad cow...and people are _buying_ this?'' Steve asked skeptically.

The billionaire shrugged. ''They have to believe something. What's the alternative?''

''The truth?''

Stark gave him a look. ''Do I even need to say it? Don't make me say it. They can't handle the truth, and you know it. Hell, _we_ can barely handle it.'' He gathered up the rest of his things and then clamped a hand down on Steve's shoulder, kept it there for a moment. ''Keep in touch, buddy,'' he said softly, and then left the room. Steve sat for a few more pensive moments and then got to his feet and called Natasha on video conferencing using the secure logins that Stark had provided.

''I know that technically I shouldn't be speaking to you. You're persona non grata around here after that little stunt you pulled,'' he said once her face appeared on the screen.

''If that's the way it has to be,'' she replied. He gave a nod.

''I'll just get right to it. Before, when Fury left, he went to England. I have coordinates. You might want to check it out.''

''I don't think that we're going to be needing them,'' Natasha said. Her face was cold and clear. ''I think I already know where he went.''

''Where?''

''The Walters Estate,'' she replied. ''Darcy and Loki were there before, looking for information. I think it's ground zero for this whole thing. We were wrong, we thought that it was the house in Connecticut, but England is where it all really started, over seventy years ago.'' She paused, look at the Captain's grim and harried face. ''How bad is it?'' she asked. She had seen the footage of course, but needed to hear it from him for herself.

''Bad,'' was all he said.

* * *

><p><strong>Norway<strong>

The Black Widow had the nagging sensation that she was missing something, especially after talking with Steve. It made her incredibly restless, and so she went back and combed through all the files yet again. She had the photographs that Darcy took in Retnick's house, specifically ones of the walls in Cloud's room. The strange lettering, the unfamiliar language. It tugged at her mind in a way that made her want to pay closer attention. She ran the symbols through image recognition software and came up with nothing. ''Is it a cipher...?'' she wondered aloud softly. Deciding to expand her search, she ran the script against every known article in the database. Impossibly, it returned one match—to an extremely old and infamous document, one of the greatest puzzles in the history of cryptography. The Voynich Manuscript, a book with strange illustrations of the natural world, written in a language that nobody had ever been able to identify or read. ''It's the letters—the same letters,'' she said in disbelief, then choked out a weird little laugh. ''It's been here all this time. Prudence!'' she yelled down the hallway. The young girl came running, asking breathlessly, ''What is it, Agent Romanov?'' Her long earrings swung and crashed against her neck. ''Do you need more coffee?''

''Yes, but first come look at this.'' She waved Prudence over and then pointed to the screen. ''I think that this is something.''

Pru's eyes widened. ''Oh my god. The letters match. What is this from...wait, wait...is that the Voynich Manuscript?''

''You know about it?'' The Black Widow looked at her with sharp surprise.

''We learned about it in college. I took a class on the history of cryptography.''

''Get it for me.''

''It's at the Yale University Library, they have a digitized version online...'' Prudence spoke in a rush.

''I don't want digitized, I want actual. Hard copy, get it for me now!'' She sighed as Pru scurried back out of the room. ''I love it when they hide in plain sight.''

Pru returned a few minutes later with Bruce Banner, who looked rather stressed. ''Alright Natasha, _what_ is going on now? Why are you trying to get a hold of the Voynich Manuscript?''

The Black Widow showed him her findings. ''_This_ is the key,'' she told him, jabbing a finger at the screen. ''We may be able to stop them, send them back to wherever they were.''

''How?'' Banner asked skeptically, frowning. The light from the computer screen reflected off of his glasses. ''That sounds like a hell of a reach. Even if it is the same language, that doesn't guarantee that it'll be useful at all. For all we know, that manuscript might just be...a recipe book or something. We can't _read_ it. Nobody can. It's useless.''

''That's not true,'' Natasha said, as a sudden idea crashed through her brain like lightning. ''I think I know somebody who can read it. Unfortunately, she's worlds away right now. See if we can get a hold of Thor or anybody who might be able to reach Loki and Darcy. Tell them we might have an answer.''

Bruce sighed with a great intensity. ''How? There's no such thing as cross-dimensional Skyping.''

''Well...wait...'' Natasha trailed off and then snapped back into manic urgency. ''Yes, there is. Heid!'' she called. ''I need your help.''


	30. Chapter 30

**Hey everyone! Again, so sorry about the late update, but January is always a hectic month. It was about this time last year that I finished ''Good Neighbors.'' Man, that's weird to think about, but awesome. I love all you guys, thank you for reading!**

* * *

><p>Darcy was sitting by the window, reading. Loki was in another chair opposite hers, thinking and aimlessly sketching in one of his notebooks. Several feet away, Avalon slept quietly in her crib. It was a murky-skied late afternoon and everything was quiet, yet all day Darcy'd had a feeling in the back of her mind that there was something that she needed to know. It was a sort of nagging around her head, like an insect buzzing and trying to get her attention, and it was only getting stronger. Now, as she sat there, a curious sensation swept through her and made her vision hazy. Darcy briefly wondered if she was having a stroke, but no, this was something else. A warm flicker, a cool shadow, a familiar tugging at her mind. It wasn't the Well—which she dreaded—or one of the ghosts that seemed to be so fond of her: it was something gentler, less indifferent. Somehow familiar. She got the sense of smoke drifting through the air on a cold night, a cabin far out in the snow in an ancient country. Heid. Closing her eyes, Darcy allowed her mind to open until the pictures were clearer and words were forming. Flash after flash came, and she tried to absorb the deluge of information. The seer was sending her a telepathic message, it seemed, and an important one.<p>

The sound of charcoal scraping against paper stopped, and Loki was now staring at her, worried at the sudden change in her expression; Darcy seemed very far away and then it appeared that she had fallen asleep.

''Another book? Damn it, how many are we dealing with now? And which ones are the right ones?'' Words fell from her lips as though she was talking through a dream. Then she listened again. After a few moments Darcy blinked rapidly and was back.

''What was that?'' asked Loki, trying not to let any panic creep into the corners of his voice.

''It was Heid. She sent us a message.'' There was now a bright and disbelieving look on Darcy's face, it held something like hope. ''Natasha and everyone think that they found some other kind of book that has the same letters as the manuscript, as all of the etchings on the stone and the doorways. It might be able to help, but they can't read it.''

He had a sinking suspicion as to where this was heading. ''And I'm assuming that they want you to read it.''

She sighed, shrugged. ''I guess it's kinda my thing.''

''No. It's not your thing, it's the Well.'' Something told Loki that the Well still had a large role yet to play and this sat inside him like jagged shards.

Darcy seemed unperturbed, or at least she pretended to be.''Whatever, so long as it works and I can get the gist.'' She stretched and yawned.

Loki began to walk back and forth thoughtfully, puzzling something out. ''These books unsettle me,'' he finally said after a moment.

''Why?''

''Because, like I said before, we don't really know anything about their language,'' he answered. ''You get these great flashes of insight, these translations or whatever but really _understanding_ something isn't that simple. Language has a tremendous amount of nuance to it; just because you can read the words doesn't mean that you fully grasp the meaning. Remember when we were back at Retnick's house and you had all those discussions about putting things into anthropological context? It's the very same thing here. Also, where is that reversal spell that we thought we had, eh?'' He raised an eyebrow.

Darcy looked at him blankly. ''I don't know. You're the one who hid it.''

Nodding, Loki continued, ''Yes, but then it disappeared. And that worries me, because only someone very powerful could have gotten to it.''

''It was probably the Reckoner,'' she said with a shrug.

He shook his head. ''I don't think so. I just have this feeling.''

With a glance over at the crib to make sure Avi was still sleeping, Darcy said, ''Ok, let's think. So now we're dealing with two books, one very evil and one that's hopefully good but we don't know cause nobody's ever been able to read it.'' Now that she said it all out loud, she had to agree with Loki, it did seem a little problematic.

''We're playing on an awful lot of hunches here,'' he added.

Her shoulders slumped a little now.''What other choice do we have?''

Silence cloaked the room again, both of them sat quietly in thought and the baby dreamed. Then Loki spoke up, his voice sounding both soft and forceful at the same time.''We're going back.''

Her heart thudded strangely. ''Back?'' Darcy echoed, though she knew what he meant, and she knew that it was the right and probably only thing to do.

''Back to Midgard. After we summon the Reckoner.'' He resumed pacing around the room as he spoke. ''We trap him here, interrogate him a little, and then leave.'' Loki stated this as if it was going to be terribly simple. ''We go to Midgard, regroup with the others and see about this document that they've found.''

_Just like magic, _thought Darcy. _Poof. Voila. Mad applause. _Not. This was going to be incredibly dangerous, and they both knew it. They were going to have to proceed cautiously, to evaluate every angle and make sure things were perfectly in place for a plan like that to work.

Loki looked out the window at the sky as evening fell. His voice grew even softer, like fog or incense smoke as he said, ''I have a feeling that we're coming down to the end, or at least to some conclusion. The air is heavy with it, pressing down.''

''I wish I knew how it was going to end,'' Darcy softly remarked. She felt the same way, she was quite familiar with that heaviness. Having Avi only made it worse, there were so many unknowns, and so much more to lose.

Loki turned and stroked a finger over her cheek, very gently. His eyes were deep and dark, like a lake. ''Not knowing is sometimes best.'' From over in her crib, Avalon stirred awake and Darcy went and held her.

* * *

><p>In order to proceed with this plan, they were going to need help, and so the next morning Loki and Darcy went to see Frigga. But first, they handed Avi over to Jane, who was talking with Thor by the window in the Hall. The blond's eyes lit up as they approached. ''I want to hold her,'' he said insistently. ''You never let me hold her.''<p>

''That's because you'll drop her or break her or something,'' Loki said, giving him a sharp look. ''You don't exactly have a delicate touch.'' Darcy rolled her eyes. ''You can hold her, just be careful,'' she told Thor, who nodded seriously. Jane smiled and passed Avalon over to him. Loki flinched a little. Darcy grabbed his arm, pulling him away. ''C'mon, we gotta go.''

Looking back over his shoulder fitfully, Loki groaned,''He's going to squeeze her too hard, I know it...''

''He's more gentle than you give him credit for, just let it go,'' Darcy instructed, and he reluctantly looked forward again with a sigh as they turned the corner. ''Is she alright now?'' he asked randomly.

''Is who alright?''

''Jane. Is she...'' he searched for the right word. ''Happy? Happier? Less likely to steal vials of blood and try to create immortality serums?''

Darcy couldn't help but roll her eyes again, though she did hear the genuine concern hiding beneath the sarcasm in Loki's voice and found it sweet. ''I think that she's going to be fine. She just had to deal with some pretty heavy stuff. That takes awhile.''

After a brisk trek to the other side of the palace they arrived at the greenhouse, where Frigga was waiting.''Something is different,'' she said thoughtfully upon seeing them arrive. ''A message has come. And you-Loki, I know that look in your eyes, you have a plan.'' The Queen of Asgard stood expectantly, apparently wanting them to elaborate on all of these things.

''We're going to call the Reckoner forth, summon him here,'' explained Loki, figuring that he might as well just get down to business. ''I've visited the old cells on the edges of the Void, and I know that must have been where his kind were kept before, when they were trapped. I've sensed the old magic at work there. I think that we can do it again.''

The Queen raised her eyebrows. ''You want to summon that thing here? To trap him?'' Her tone of voice was wary as her glance darted between Loki and Darcy. ''How do you know that he'll come himself and not just send others?'' she asked, bringing up a valid point. ''He's...obsessed with me,'' Darcy spoke up. ''If _I_ call him, I think he'll come.''

Frigga looked deeply into Darcy's eyes. ''You're going to be using yourself as bait, dear. Are you certain that you're comfortable with this?''

She nodded, though she wasn't certain at all. Darcy knew that this was what she had to do, but still it left her with a tremendous dread. She would be essentially calling forth her nightmares, inviting them in. What if something went wrong? Trapping the Reckoner wasn't going to be easy, he was extremely old and powerful. It had been done once before, true, but they didn't know how exactly. There wasn't any kind of an outline as to the best way to wrangle an entity of that kind. Darcy worried that those who had accomplished it before might have simply gotten lucky. Though she had been continuing on with her lessons with Frigga, she was nowhere near ready to be performing magic of that magnitude. ''I'm just not sure how it's going to work,'' she admitted. ''So...we put up these runes or whatever and they hold him?''

''Not exactly,'' Frigga answered calmly, with a glance at Loki. ''There's far more to it, and I suspect you know that. Remember what I taught you: energy and intent. A symbol—a rune or any other sort—only has the power that we imbue it with. You need to be able to focus clearly. You may need...extra help, at some point.'' She paused a moment, then continued, ''As I told you once before, Darcy, I think it would be best if you attempted to make peace with the Well. I think that perhaps if you do it could be of great benefit to this endeavour.''

Darcy assumed that the Queen was trying to tell her that she was going to need the Well at some point, and though the thought made her muscles clench and her stomach roll, she had to acknowledge the fact that she and Loki would almost certainly be dead if not for Its intervention during their last battle with the Norns. She hoped fervently that this would be nothing like that, but then she reminded herself that she was dealing with gods and primal forces. Of course, of course it would be like that. There always had to be an enormous production when gods were concerned. ''I can try,'' she answered, hesitation drenching the words. Frigga gave a nod. ''Good. Now, what about the message you received?''

She didn't even bother asking how the Queen knew about that, just pressed onward. ''I was told that back on Midgard, they found another document, one that they feel might be useful.''

''Why do they think that?''

''It has the same letters as the manuscript that seems to be at the centre of all of this. Somehow it all comes back to that language.''

''Words, yes, it does come back to words in the end,'' replied Frigga. ''But they can't read it, correct? They need you to read it for them.''

''Right,'' said Darcy. The Queen pondered this quietly for a moment, and then simply nodded and said, ''Then we have a lot of work to do.''

Loki stayed behind for a few moments to talk privately with his mother, and so Darcy went to collect their daughter from Jane. Avi was laying on a nest of blankets, mesmerised by a small, shiny object that the scientist was dangling in front of her face. She laughed. ''Hey,'' Jane said, turning with a smile at the sound of footsteps and then scooping Avi up. ''She's good, she had a little nap and I changed her but I think that she might be getting hungry again.'' She handed the baby to Darcy, who knew that it was time to discuss a very important matter. It was one that she had been keeping in the back of her mind for some time, mulling it over, and for some reason this seemed to be the perfect moment to ask.

''I need you to promise me something,'' she began. ''Alright,'' Jane replied with a nod, a little startled by the sudden serious look on Darcy's face. ''What is it?''

Darcy drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then said, ''Loki and I once performed a ritual that links us together irrevocably. Which means that our life force is connected. When he dies, I die, and vice versa. With everything that's happening...I don't know how this is going to turn out.''

Jane frowned deeply as she digested this information. ''How what is going to turn out?''

''Look, I can't tell you anything exactly until we have more details, but back home they might have found something that could be useful, so we have to go back. It's a long shot, but we have to try. First, though, we need to make sure that the Reckoner is trapped, so we're going to summon him here.''

''That's absolutely insane!'' the scientist said adamantly, crossing her arms over her chest. ''You saw what happened the last time. You want to invite something like that in?''

''It might be the only way!'' Darcy protested. ''If I call him, he'll listen. You know that the only reason that he's pursuing us is because of me. We just have to be ready when he gets here.''

Jane didn't say anything, but the look on her face was one of extreme hesitation and doubt. ''I still don't...''

''Something could go wrong, I know, I know its a dangerous plan, that's why I'm talking to you right now,'' Darcy rushed to continue. ''Even if it succeeds and we do trap him then there are still probably going to be more dangerous and stupid plans yet to come before this is all over, because frankly, that's just how we roll. And I need to know that if...if we don't make it...I need to be sure that someone will be there for Avi, someone that I trust.'' She stared at Jane imploringly. ''You're my best friend, no matter what. You always have been. I need you to promise me that if something happens to Loki and I that you'll take care of our daughter.''

As the astrophysicist pondered the weight of this statement, a few tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she quickly brushed them away.''I promise,'' she said sincerely, and reached out and squeezed Darcy's arm. Both women looked like they were about to cry now. ''Hey, this got a little grim all of a sudden, why don't we go take a walk or something,'' Jane suggested.

They walked slowly. ''Are you happy about everything being...the way that it is now?'' Darcy asked, shifting the baby from one arm to the other. Jane looked at her curiously. ''I mean, if you could go back and not know, would you?'' she elaborated. ''Do you think it would be better if we had never stumbled across Thor that night, and we were just out in the desert looking at the stars...''

''That's an awful lot of what-ifs, and I don't think questions like that are very useful anyhow,'' the scientist replied wryly. ''We can't go back. We can't un-know this stuff. It's all...scary and infuriating sometimes, and it's also really, really unfair. We found a lot of magic, and it plays by its own rules and it can be cruel. Very cruel. But even if I could change any part of it, I don't think that I would. I got a very rare opportunity, and I am happy about that.'' Her voice dropped a little. ''There are certain things that I can't have, and that's ok. Sometimes, we think that we want something, want it so badly that we'd do anything for it. It's only when we stop, and look really closely that we see a problem. We see that the thing that we wanted, this golden thing...it's not an answer. It can't give us what we really need. I would have done absolutely anything to keep Thor with me, in whatever way. And so I thought that I wanted a baby, because that would solve all the problems. And I was so obsessed with having this, that I put blinders up. I couldn't see that it really wasn't a solution. I could see...my own motivations a little more clearly. I'd never loved anyone as much as I love him, and that scares me. I'm not used to needing someone else that much. And I didn't like the thought that he would go on without me some day and I would be forgotten. This time is all we have, really. We might as well live it in a way that's worth remembering. That's how myths are made, right?'' Jane smiled, looked younger.

* * *

><p>A few days passed swiftly by as if carried on a cold rushing current. The moon was waning, nearly dark, and they knew that this was his time, that the Reckoner would be watching. It was once again late afternoon, that strange gloaming time that was neither here nor there, when the sky and air made Darcy both tired and restless, the time when the shadows changed their shape. Today, the falling of night made her particularly uneasy. The next day they would put their plan into action.<p>

She went for a walk outside in the fading twilight, in an attempt to clear her head and steady herself. The breeze held the slightest edge of a chill. The trees made dark silhouettes against the sky. Darcy found herself thinking of Cloud, and those thoughts always left a kind of hollow pain in her stomach. Closing her eyes, she was overtaken by thoughts of trees that spoke and held dark secrets, of eyes opening and closing. She tried to listen within the stillness, to try to hear some answer there. To fight a force as ancient as the Reckoner, they needed another ancient force on their side, something that had been around as long as these strange invading spirits had. And then, Darcy made peace with the Well. Not so much peace as an uneasy truce, and she did it for everyone that she loved, especially Avi, because there was no other way. She began very slowly, almost like a tentative prayer, out there in the dark quiet, beneath the open sky. _I don't know if you're listening, but if you are, I need your help,_ she said. _I'm scared of you, you must know that. But you might also be our best hope._ Opening her mind as much as she would allow at that moment, she showed the Well everything that was going on, all of her questions and fears and doubts. _I want to see my daughter grow up, I want the world to be safe for her. I don't want it to all be over, not yet. __Please listen. They say you keep the balance, so keep it now. Use me. _Darcy wasn't sure if she had received any kind of an acknowledgement or answer, but she did feel remarkably calmer as she got up and headed back inside. It was dark now, and getting cold.

Loki, meanwhile, had been busy studying old blueprints of the palace. The Void cells were situated underground beneath one particular section of the dungeons, which could prove quite useful, as the whole space would create a kind of energetic funnel. Now he headed down there, brushing past one of the guards and striding into the high security wing, where he had once been kept as a prisoner before being sent back to Midgard. Avi was with him, he was carrying her against his chest in a little sling. Though Loki was fairly sure that Darcy wouldn't be too happy about him having their daughter in the dungeons, he wanted to be able to spend as much time with her as possible before they went forward with their plan.

''I need the prisoners moved from this area,'' he ordered. ''What?'' the dungeon master asked, hurrying after him after being altered by the guard that Loki had arrived and was apparently up to something. He did look rather surprised to see the prince barking orders with a baby strapped to his chest. ''Moved _where_?''

''Anywhere but here,'' Loki tried not to snap at the man. ''There's plenty of room. I need this particular block of cells cleared out, I'm going to be needing it.''

The dungeon master blinked. ''Might I inquire as to what for, my lord?''

''You may _not_, but thank you for asking all the same,'' he replied, as he studied the outside of one of the few empty cells towards the far end of the corridor. These _were_ quite nice compared to the ones miles below. ''Open this door for me please, I need to see inside.'' The dungeon master obligingly turned off the triple-reinforced energetic barrier that served as a door and Loki slipped in, studying the interior, the floor and the walls. ''I was once in a cell just like this one, little love,'' he whispered to Avi, whose green eyes roved over everything with her typical interest. Then he stepped out, nodding. ''This will do. As I was saying, I need this entire space available within the next two days.'' He waved his arm to indicate the whole row. They needed as much space as they could acquire. ''There's plenty of other empty cells in the next wing.''

''But that's minimum security, my lord,'' the man hesitated. ''The prisoners that we'd be moving are higher-risk, I don't know that...''

''Well double the security and then it won't be minimum any more, will it?'' Loki said, not even attempting to be pleasant any more. It was far too draining under the circumstances, and he needed every ounce of strength. Unconsciously, he held Avalon even closer to himself, the warmth of her tiny body next to his heart providing much-needed comfort. The dungeon master narrowed his eyes. ''Just what exactly are you bringing down here?''

''That's not for you to know,'' came a sudden regal voice and the dungeon master turned and then fell immediately into a bow upon seeing Frigga. ''Sir, I ask that you please be accommodating towards my son for the next few days, and also that you use great discretion,'' she said. ''You will of course be compensated well for your trouble.'' He bowed again. ''Of course, my Queen.'' Then he hurried away in the other direction. Frigga caught Loki's eye, smiled and winked. He smiled back. Then she shook her head and tutted as she looked at Avi, whose eyes lit up upon seeing her grandmother. ''You brought a baby to the dungeons. Why am I not surprised?''

* * *

><p><strong>A few hours later<strong>

''Mother told me that I should come and speak with you,'' Thor said, crossing the room and taking a seat beside Loki. Then he paused and looked around the library, smiling. ''Ah, I remember this place. I'd almost forgotten about it. You always liked to hide away in here.''

''It's a good place to hide,'' he replied evenly, closing the book that he held on his lap. ''What do you wish to speak about?''

''Your plan,'' answered Thor. ''She said that I should offer my assistance. And after hearing about it, I have to admit that I'm a little confused.''

''You? _Confused_? No, certainly not,'' Loki's voice oozed pleasant sarcasm as half of his mouth twitched up into a smile.

''Come out with it brother, what are you trying to do?'' The god of thunder stared at him expectantly. He wasn't going to go away until he was given an answer.

Loki sighed. This was going to take awhile. ''We are trying to summon forth one of the entities that is causing all the destruction on Midgard right now. He is a very ancient being called the Reckoner, who claims to have been there since the creation of the worlds. He looks human, because like the others he can steal a human form. Darcy and I need to go back to Midgard to consult with the others. They think that they might have found something, a way to reverse the invasion that's occurring. But we can't get back there while he's roaming free, its too dangerous. So we're going to call him here and lead him into a trap. As soon as we're sure that he's contained, Darcy and Avalon and I are going back to Midgard.''

Thor nodded as he finished processing the information. ''I see. Why do you have to trap him? If he can steal a human form then why not simply kill him once he's here?''

''It doesn't work like that, you can't just _kill_ him,'' Loki explained tiredly, rubbing his forehead. ''Even if you kill or seriously injure his vessel, he'll simply find another one.''

''Oh.'' The blond looked mildly disappointed at this but quickly recovered. ''I see. Well, you're going to need help no matter what. This plan sounds awfully dangerous.''

''Thank you for that astute assessment. How do you propose to help?''

After considering it a moment, Thor said, ''I'll provide extra security.''

* * *

><p>''Where's Avi?'' Darcy asked Loki. She had returned to their room after going for another walk and realised that their daughter was nowhere in sight. ''My mother is watching her,'' he replied. ''I told her that I wanted some time alone with you.''<p>

''Sweet,'' she sighed, sinking down onto the bed and pulling off her shoes. Then she simply sat there for a moment and rested her head in her hands. ''Are you alright?'' he asked.

''I'm fine, I'm just worried and exhausted. I don't know if I can do this,'' she admitted, raising her head and looking at him.

''You are the bravest person that I have ever known,'' Loki told her sincerely. ''I want you to know that.''

Darcy snorted. ''Thank you, but I don't feel very brave right now. I'm all in knots.''

He sat down beside her and pulled her to him, running his fingers over her hair. ''Every time I think about tomorrow, I just can't stop seeing his face, his eyes,'' she said. ''And I can remember the way that everything smelled inside the Palace of Souls, it was this sterile yet dead smell, like antiseptic and ash. God, it just makes me sick to think about it.''

''I know.'' Loki's grip tightened around her.

She got up suddenly, pulling out of his arms and going over to the dresser. As he watched with curiosity, Darcy reached inside of the drawer, looking for something. After a moment she retrieved it as a smile danced over her face. It was a photograph of the two of them, one that had been taken with an old camera while they were in Prague. Their arms were around each other and they were smiling. It had taken forever to find a place that would still develop that particular film, but it was worth it. She returned to sit beside him again; her movements were very languid and soft. Time seemed to be slowing, and they were both grateful. Darcy stared at the picture for a long time. ''We look young,'' she finally said. Loki nodded in agreement. ''Yes,'' he admitted. ''I suppose that we do.'' Outwardly, he supposed, he would be considered a young man, one in the prime of life, full of vitality and charm. He wondered what he looked like on the inside.

''I know I look the same but I don't...I don't feel the same. I feel older,'' she fumbled for the right words to explain. ''So much has happened. Maybe it's not time that actually makes you older, but what happened during that time. I think that maybe time moves differently based on how much you suffer. Suffering in any way makes everything feel so much longer because it took so much out of you, made you older inside where nobody can see. '' Darcy leaned against him again, a tear fell down her cheek. Loki took the photograph out of her hand and held it in his own. ''It doesn't have to be just suffering that changes you, or lasts for so long,'' he told her in a quiet voice. ''We just have to decide what minutes deserve to be remembered. And those minutes can last as long as we want them to. They don't get lost, or go away. They're still there. Maybe this,'' he ran his fingers over their faces in the picture, ''is our eternity. We just don't know it yet.''

''It wouldn't be a bad place to stay,'' admitted Darcy. ''We wouldn't have Avi, though.''

Loki smiled. ''Well, maybe...maybe that's where we'll be waiting for her. When we...have to leave, _when_ it's our time. And we can give her this, so that she'll know. She'll know that we aren't really gone, that we're alright. That we're perfectly alright.''

* * *

><p><strong>The next day<strong>

Darcy was trying desperately not to hyperventilate. In a few minutes, everything was about to begin. After much cuddling and crying, she had finally handed Avalon over to Jane and Thor, who were taking her to a secure place on the other side of the palace and watching over her to make sure that she was safe while the plan was put into place. Thor had been very adamant about wanting to help, and Darcy felt a good deal better knowing that he would be protecting her daughter while she and Loki were otherwise occupied.

Now they stood together by the entrance to the dungeons. Chilly air raked along the marble and stone and made her skin ache as they descended. Loki was going to be present for the initial summoning, but not visible. He had been practicing his magic, and from his studies of the Void cells and a few books that he had found in the library, he felt that he had a firm grasp on the spells that would hopefully hold the Reckoner bound. He'd also added a few modifications of his own, to ensure that he wouldn't be able to wriggle loose again. Frigga would also be watching, ready to help if necessary. Nobody spoke of Odin, whether he knew or cared what was going on in his palace that night.

''Remember, you need to _want_ the Reckoner here,'' Loki told Darcy, squeezing her shoulder. ''Why you want him is irrelevant,'' he added. ''He won't know your motivations, only the feeling. And he won't be able to resist.''

Her insides churned. She trembled as a cold shiver went dancing along her spine. ''I feel like I'm doing something terrible,'' she confessed.

He shook his head. ''No. You're doing the correct thing, just in an odd, backwards way. Call to him.''

There wasn't any particular spell that they knew to summon the Reckoner, and he didn't need one. Words might have helped, but feelings were a stronger magick, a far more ancient one. He responded to desire, especially obsessive and misplaced desire. He didn't need to know why Darcy wanted him there that badly, only that she did. And she did. Moths to flames and flies to spiders. Desire would rule out over danger, she only had to appeal to his madness. She concentrated, calling out, envisioning all the dark places where he might be listening, let him know where she was. Darcy paused before the open cell doorway, then waited. And waited, fearful that at any moment some terrifying army of nightmares was going to come charging through and sweep her away. It took some time, which passed with a dragging slowness. At first there was nothing, no signs of stirring anywhere. As night began to more fully descend there came at last a terrible whisper, a flicker of movement, and then there he stood, moving out of the shadows that followed him. He wasn't Jason, she saw, wasn't tall and gangly, but Darcy recognized him all the same, the way he stretched thin the faces of everyone that he stole and wore. Panic charged through her and her skin went clammy, but then there came something else, some fiery core of strength that began to spill outwards and for the very first time, she was truly thankful for it.

''I knew that you would eventually come to your senses,'' he said, moving forward with a smile full of ugly delight. Yet when the Reckoner got close enough he could see that Darcy's eyes were completely black and she was smiling in a very strange way. Her hand outstretched and then he froze, unable to move. Limbs thrashed and eyes blazed as he struggled, but the spell held firm and he was temporarily immobilized. ''Sssh,'' she said, putting a finger to her lips. ''There will be time to talk later.'' She stretched out her hand and burning patterns began to form and glow on his skin, showing interlocking bindrunes. A force like a giant gust of wind rose up and he was flung inside the cell, which closed. More bind runes formed over the doors. The Reckoner tried to scream in rage, but she shook her finger at him tauntingly. ''You were not the first,'' she said with another smile.

* * *

><p>The amount of energy that Darcy had been channeling left her nauseas and dizzy, her head ached and her body felt like a burnt-out husk. ''We got him, right?'' she asked, raising her head up off the pillow ever so slightly before the effort sickened her and she dropped it down again and closed her eyes. ''Yes,'' Loki replied. ''We got him.'' He could scarcely believe it; he hadn't needed to do anything at all, the Well had intervened and bound the Reckoner. Frigga had told him that this could possibly happen and to not be afraid, but it was difficult not to be; Darcy had collapsed nearly right after she had sealed the Reckoner in his cell. Now she was in the Healing Chambers, resting and being tended to by Eir.<p>

She could hear familiar voices, vague and far away, as if she was straining to hear them through a tunnel. They slowly became clearer. ''I'm worried,'' said the Healer, standing beside her. Darcy felt a hand against her forehead. ''This may be too much for her. Yes, the Well is intelligent, but it also has its own designs. Keeping the balance is far more important to it now than Darcy's well-being.''

''She can handle it. I know she can. We're so close, we have to keep going.'' Loki's voice wavered ever so slightly at the edges, Darcy could hear it.

''He's right. I'm fine, don't worry. I'm used to it,'' she croaked out, trying to make herself believe it, trying to shake the pallor off of her features and look strong again.

Loki and Frigga went out into the hallway to speak quietly. ''This can't be normal, can it?'' He spoke more freely now that they were out of earshot. ''What exactly are you referring to?'' asked the Queen.

''This...possession...thing that happens to her.'' He raked his fingers through his dark hair as he spoke, his skin had gone paler than usual.

''Well I don't know if I would call it common, but you know its certainly not unheard of.'' The Queen spoke in a calming voice. ''Certain people, for whatever reason, are wired to act as vehicles for a higher intelligence. It's happened on Midgard many times throughout history, it happens on every world to varying degrees.''

''I just don't want her to get lost,'' he confessed. ''Every time that thing takes over her, and I see...I see her eyes change and there's that miserable smirk and it's not_ her_. Not my Darcy. It...it breaks my heart, to be perfectly honest with you. I'm afraid that I opened a door inside of her, a door to some dangerous places.''

''She isn't going to get lost,'' Frigga reassured him.''Darcy is strong. Yes, this may be taxing on her body, and it may wear her down very far, but she's going to hold on, because that's what she does. Nothing, not even the Well can ever take her away from you. I think that some of this is about what happened to you,'' the Queen ventured. ''I know that...certain dark powers found their way inside of you, used you. I know that you allowed them to control you, because your desire for power was so strong and let you be swayed. This is different, now.'' She put a hand on his shoulder. ''And you've shown that you are powerful enough on your own. Because you've learned the true source of that power.''

* * *

><p>Darcy <em>did<em> somehow know that she was going to be alright, though it wasn't going to be easy. That seemed to be what the Well was telling her. It didn't speak in words so much as thoughts and images, some that she couldn't yet interpret. A long road stretched out ahead in her mind, beckoned her forward to some unknown place. _This has always been your destiny_, something seemed to say. Though she wished that they could just leave, they needed to interrogate him first. There were certain questions remaining that only the Reckoner could answer. Loki had wanted to do the questioning, but Darcy knew that wouldn't work. The Reckoner wouldn't divulge any information to him, but to her, he just might. Once she had rested sufficiently, she dragged herself to her feet and headed back into the dungeon. Darcy felt a strange combination of exhausted and wired, like she'd stayed up all night and then drank a pot of coffee to try and compensate. Her blood was jittery and thin.

''Ah, there you are,'' the Reckoner said as he saw that she had returned. ''Much better. I can see your pretty eyes.''

She didn't flinch.

''I knew that you would call to me eventually,'' he said, smiling still even though he was bound.

''I want to understand you,'' she began tentatively, and his smile widened. ''I want to understand about the Restoration that's happening on earth now,'' she continued. ''How can this be what you want?''

''We ask the same thing about you all the time,'' replied the Reckoner. ''We see your desires, and we do not understand. You are so lost without us. Shadows with no form. The edge of something, a faint and disappearing whisper. Why won't you let us help you?'' He spoke now in an eerie, cajoling, sing-song tone.

Darcy attempted to use this to lead into another question.''Help us...like you helped Stanwell Walters?''

''Stanwell was an old friend of mine,'' he answered. ''A very old friend. I gave him many extra years in exchange for certain things.''

''The book,'' Darcy said. ''You must have wanted him to find the book.''

''Yes, but I wanted something else too. Something that he promised me.'' His voice was suddenly flat and angry, his lips set down in a line.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. ''What?''

''His daughter. Helen Walters was supposed to come to me. But something went...wrong, and I never have been able to find her. I don't like being denied the things that I want.'' His eyes were black and glittery, like polished onyx.

''Why would he promise his own daughter's soul to you?'' Darcy asked incredulously. This was not what she had expected to hear at all, and she was trying to hide her surprise from him. She wished that Natasha was here to do the interrogating, it was like a dance to her.

The Reckoner gave her a look that suggested he found her charmingly stupid, but was going to humor her with an answer all the same. ''For the same reason that Retnick gave me Anna-Lily. A father wants to protect his daughter. He wanted her to be preserved, to live forever. Life is ever so unpredictable and death is...so uncertain a thing. There is nothing uncertain about what I do. There is no death. Only a stopping, at a destination somewhere beyond it all. Eternity.''

He chuckled grimly as he went on. ''Whether I am here now or not is irrelevant, my darling. Temporarily trapping me is not going to stop what has already begun. It is all beyond your control now. I am very patient,'' he added. ''My servants will free me once the world is ours again. And then you will be mine, at last.'' Now the glamour fell away and he looked cruel and horrible, fixing her with the burning emptiness of his eyes. ''You _will_ be mine, that little creature of yours will be mine. Don't worry. I won't hurt you. I know that I lost my temper before. _He's_ the one that I need to punish,'' the Reckoner hissed. ''He is the problem, and once he's gone for good, you can finally belong to me.''

One icy pulse of fear through her veins, and then Darcy felt something flare inside of her again, her hand raised up on its own accord and then the Reckoner gave a little shriek and jolted back as if he'd been electrocuted. ''Not today,'' came the Well's voice.


	31. Chapter 31

**Hey loves! I once again have to apologise for keeping you waiting for an update: February was a _terrible_ month, super stressful. One of those months where literally everything goes wrong at once. Thank goodness it seems to be turning around now, I can't WAIT for Spring to get here! Updates should hopefully be coming more frequently again now. *crosses fingers*Here is the next chapter for you! There isn't a huge amount of Loki/Darcy one on one interaction, there will be much more of that next time, I promise. :) As always, please let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p><em>There are doors that open by themselves<em>

_There are sliding doors_

_And there are secret doors_

**-Radiohead**

It was as if time temporarily sped up after that, everything began to move very quickly. With the Reckoner now trapped, the Well apparently felt that It's work was done, at least for the moment, and Darcy felt the relief of its absence, though she was impossibly grateful for its intervention. _Go_, _go_, something seemed to say, prompting them along hurriedly. Jane and Thor were staying on Asgard, at least temporarily; only Loki, Darcy, and the baby would be going back to Migard at the moment. Norway, specifically, where Heid and Natasha were. They left as soon as they could, after saying another set of goodbyes. In truth, though Darcy knew that they had to go back and a part of her desperately wanted to, she couldn't help but acknowledge how accustomed to Asgard she'd grown, how adjusted to the daily rhythms of the realm. It seemed ironic, since she'd once sworn that she'd never be comfortable there.

Returning 'home' was vaguely disorienting. The sky was so different on Midgard, and it took Darcy a moment to readjust to it, to remind herself that it was still home, even after all the time spent away. At first she was worried that the method of transport would be too jarring for Avalon, but she didn't seem to mind, in fact she shrieked and cooed with something like delight as they 'landed'. She was definitely her father's daughter, Darcy realized as she looked down at the smiling pink face of her child, wrapped safely in a thick blanket in her arms.

The air was quite cold but thankfully they were only a few feet from the building. Darcy glanced around at the cold landscape, dotted with patches of snow, and a small thrill of familiarity rose up inside of her. It had been so many months since she had set foot on Earth, and she'd almost forgotten the unique feel of its ground beneath her feet, the smell of the air. And she'd always felt strangely connected to Norway, ever since their first journey there, when they'd met Heid.

Darcy was once again astonished to see Prudence, who yelped in excitement as she opened the large door to the outpost, practically launching herself at them. ''Yaaay!'' she shrieked. Loki inched backwards a bit away from her, but she squashed him in a hug too. ''You're still _alive_! And I can't believe you _had a baby! _Oh, let me see! Can I hold her?''

She was happy to see Selene again too, the blonde woman had a powerful warmth about her. She wrapped Darcy in a big hug, whispering, ''I'm so glad that you're safe, honey.'' Tears came to her eyes at the kindness. Slowly, Darcy was realizing, through her interactions with the Witch and especially with Frigga, how a mother was supposed to be. The sort of mother that _she_ wanted to be. It was helping to assuage many of the fears and doubts that she'd had because of her own sad upbringing.

After they had gotten relatively settled and everyone had the chance to hold Avalon, Loki and Darcy were pulled directly into business. Darcy was very impressed with the facility, which was quite modern and furnished with state of the art research equipment. Everyone seemed to have managed to live there comfortably for the several months that they'd been there, they had enough backup power and food stores to last for years if they were careful, she'd been told. _Good to know in case there's a zombie apocalypse, _Darcy thought jokingly to herself. _Oh wait...yeah. Kind've already happening. Haha. Not._

''Ok, so what's this book or whatever that you found?'' Darcy asked, finally sinking down into a chair in the brightly lit kitchen area. ''Can I see it?''

''Right now, we just have a digitized version,'' Pru explained, slurping at a cup of coffee, milky with powdered creamer. There was a tired look around the corners of her eyes and Darcy suspected that neither she or anyone else at the facility had been getting much sleep lately. ''Agent Romanov wants the hard copy, so we're working on that. It's not the sort of thing that you can just _check out_, I keep trying to tell her that, but I have a feeling that she'll get them to cave.''

Darcy nodded in agreement, taking a sip from her own cup. ''I don't doubt it.'' The Black Widow against a bunch of archivists and University administrators? Yeah, they were going to cave all right.

She and Prudence were soon joined by Natasha and the others. ''So,'' the redhead began. ''It's been awhile. How are things on your end?'' Darcy and Loki filled everyone in on the attempted invasion by the Annunaki and the plan that they'd recently implemented.''We have the Reckoner trapped, at least for now,'' Loki explained. ''He's held with very powerful magic, which should keep him bound. They're keeping him under heavy guard.''

Selene's eyebrows went up in surprise at this, but Heid merely gave a nod. ''Yes, for now,'' she said slowly. ''But not forever. Until the destruction is reversed and the doors are closed for good, there can be no certainty.''

''But doors to where, exactly?'' Bruce Banner asked in a harried voice. He looked older, Darcy now noticed, the months seemed to have taken their toll on the scientist as well. ''Where are they _really_ coming from? They said they were 'always here.'''

''They were originally cthonic deities, weren't they?'' Prudence supplied, propping her feet up on the table, a habit that she'd picked up from Tony Stark. ''Very ancient ones. At least, that's what it sounds like. They came up from under the ground...''

''They weren't really under the_ ground_,'' Loki spoke up, and everyone turned. ''They were being held in a kind of borderland between dimensions, the space on the edges of the Void. There are cells there, ancient ones, I've seen them. Those things had been there for a long time when Stanwell found them.''

''But to their early worshippers, it might have _seemed_ like they were underground,'' Selene contributed. ''So it makes sense that some sort of temple might be there as well. The land, it ties back to the land,'' she stated emphatically. ''Certain energetic hot spots, those are the doors. We know there's one in Connecticut, but I'm certain that there are others.''

''But where, exactly?'' Bruce pressed.

''Whether they come from the sky or under the ground is irrelevant,'' Natasha said. Her voice was like sleet, icy and sharp. ''They reward and then punish, all the same. They are there to remind us that we are...nothing, in the end. We are _disposable_.''

''I don't think that's what they're reminding us of,'' Prudence remarked thoughtfully. ''And they need us more than we need them. That's what it all comes down to. Gods, angels, monsters of every shape and size all share one thing: their loneliness. We are something that they obsess over. Why, we can't ever really know. We are loved. Sometimes to death, but we are loved.''

There was something very true about that statement, it stabbed at Darcy a little and she reached over and took Loki by the hand. The gesture prompted a memory in him, he saw back to the beginning of their time together, when apocalyptic snow fell outside the windows and she hadn't known who to trust. That was when, in some hidden place deep inside, he had known that he wanted to save her, to keep her. The moment of metamorphoses chosen, the decision made. I am going to change you because I love you. I am going to change you because I am lonely. Because it is the monsters that are the most in need of love.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, the sky was beginning to darken again. Darcy saw Natasha standing by one of the large windows, looking out at the patches of snow laid out over the landscape, cloaked in the dying light. Her eyes seemed very far away, more gray now than blue, as if it was overcast inside of her mind. ''What <em>are<em> you guys doing here, exactly?'' Darcy asked. She hadn't been privy to the details of their move and was rather curious. Natasha sighed. ''I decided that it would be the best course of action, considering the circumstances.''

''What circumstances?'' she pried.

''I'm not sure if we can trust Fury right now, or if he can be of any help to us at all. Certain troubling information has come to light...SHIELD may have had prior knowledge of the invasion.''

''And they didn't do anything to stop it?'' Darcy found this hard to believe. She'd most definitely had her own doubts about Fury and SHIELD in the past, but even she had a difficult time wrapping her mind around the fact that they would simply allow the Earth to be taken over when they were sworn to defend it.

''Apparently not. But I still don't have all the information yet. Steve is still in New York. He's watching over everything. Stark was going back and forth for awhile, he's on his way back here now.''

''What about Clint?''

Natasha shook her head. ''Barton is away on a mission, has been for months. He's deep undercover, can't be pulled out, apparently, not even for this. I don't even know where he is.''

They both stood quietly for a few minutes.

''I'm sorry about Andrews,'' said Darcy, as she watched the very last lights of day fade.

''Me too,'' the Black Widow replied. Then she said, ''Those Yale guys finally broke. They're sending the manuscript. It should be here soon. I really hope that you can read it. I know that it seems like we're grasping at straws, but I just have this feeling I can't shake. And when I get those, they're usually right.''

''I trust you,'' Darcy told the redhead sincerely.

''That actually means a lot,'' Natasha said, with the barest of thin smiles, and then she walked away.

* * *

><p>Finally, the manuscript arrived. It came by courier, and he didn't look happy at all about having to make the trek out to the middle of nowhere Norway to deliver the package marked 'fragile' and 'urgent', but Natasha handed him an obscenely large wad of bills and then he departed looking far more lively. The parcel contained a vellum manuscript that was safely enclosed in a clear plastic casing of sorts. Inside, there were also a few pairs of what looked like white cloth gloves. And there was a note: <em>For the love of all that is holy, please at least wear the gloves when you handle the pages.<em>

''Are you ready to do this?'' Loki asked Darcy. Though he was trying to hide it, she could tell that he was nervous. In his arms, Avalon made a little cooing noise of encouragement, not seeming to be troubled at all by what was happening. Darcy smiled as she leaned down and kissed her daughter on the forehead. Then she looked up at him. ''Yes,'' she replied. ''As ready as I'll ever be.''

And now, there it was, laid out on the table in front of her. The Voynich Manuscript, written in a code that nobody had ever been able to break. It was fascinating, and oddly beautiful, possibly more beautiful because of the mystery that surrounded it. The strange designs splayed colourfully over the paper along with the alien lettering, beckoning her. If she could read this, she would be solving one of the biggest unsolved puzzles in all of history. And maybe, just maybe, saving the world at the same time. It was an awful lot of pressure.

Everyone was gathered in the room now, waiting quietly with faces that were a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Selene and Heid stood beside each other on one side of the room, Bruce and Prudence together on the other. Natasha positioned herself next to Darcy, a few feet away on her right, and Loki and Avalon were on her left. It was as if they were all guarding her somehow, and she was grateful for this.

Darcy took a deep breath, trying to force the churning anxiety out of her mind. In truth, she was terrified. She was so used to this being a painful process, and she wondered how many more times she could stand the feeling of being essentially ripped open and having information pour through her like scalding water.

_To read is not to understand, _came a quiet, calm voice, as if from deep within her. It didn't hurt, it was soft and cool, like a dim room full of blankets and shadows. Darcy felt wrapped in it, tranquil. _You must see beyond, look not with your eyes. Language can mask many things. _She knew now that just because she could translate words didn't mean that she could fully understand them. _Go deeper, _it urged. _Look closer. Not with your eyes. _

Darcy suddenly remembered being in the greenhouse on Asgard with Frigga, when she'd held the branch of a tree from a far off world in her hands and let it speak to her. It had not communicated with words so much as feelings and images. Perhaps that was what she needed to do now, in order to look beyond the words. White gloves be damned, she set her bare hands against the page. And listened. Listened until she could hear the wind blowing through the trees, in that long forgotten place that she'd once seen in a dream, the yew with the carving, the lonely gray sky, the strange voice on the air. Whispers in the shadows.

Unlike the previous times, now the knowing came very quietly. There was no burning, no tearing of runes across her skin, she wasn't dragged or thrown across the room by an unseen force or dropped from the ceiling. It just felt like...like reading a book, some old story that she's always understood.

''They weren't...they weren't all bad,'' Darcy said, soft surprise in her voice as information kept flooding steadily into her. ''They weren't demons. They were just..._there_. In the earth, in the trees. And they didn't create us, though I can see why the Reckoner would want to take credit for that. They watched us come, and then most of them simply faded, or left, they went back into the trees, or the water or the woods. Some of them didn't, though. And the ones that stayed grew more and more bitter as we forgot them. And that's how the lonely ghosts were born.''

''This book...It's a codex of some kind, but more. More like...a blueprint.'' Darcy continued as she frowned down at the text. The blurred calm of the vision was fading and she was coming back to the present, grounding herself again. ''It's how they build. Some weird combination of magic and science. It's the counterpart to the book that Lord Walters had. What the Reckoner did...it's really a perversion. He twisted their magic, used it for dark purposes, to build his Palace. And some of the lonely ghosts followed him, believed that we needed to be Restored. No wonder he got into the cult business,'' she remarked. ''He was a natural at it.''

She paused for a moment and then added, ''So the beings who are possessing everyone now, they're the Reckoner's followers. They want to be close to us again, they think we belong to them. And they...they want the earth back.'' _I want to walk in the air. I want to feel the earth cowering beneath my feet._ Another question began to tug at her. ''But the others, his servants or whatever, the Anunnaki and the weird blonde people from Retnick's house, what are they? Did he create them somehow too?''

''He may have, he certainly knew how to build,'' said Loki, who had been watching her very intensely the whole time. ''But we don't know if they're people, the Anunnaki definitely aren't human.'' Avalon had now, amazingly, fallen asleep. He carefully carried her into the other room to lay her down.

''I think that the Anunnaki are more like slaves,'' Darcy figured. Her mind was still spinning a little with relief and amazement both. ''I always thought that they seemed like worker bees. In that book I read on Asgard, that story 'The Sky Tower' talked about how beings came to Midgard from other worlds in a beam of light and got stranded here. The Reckoner promised to help them return, if they helped him build.'' She shook her head. ''They kept _their_ end of the bargain, I guess.''

Loki reappeared, asking, ''But what about the other ones? The three girls from the house, that older woman, Mary. They aren't Anunnaki.''

''Tulpas!'' Prudence blurted suddenly.

''Bless you,'' said Natasha.

''In Tibetan mysticism, there's this idea that you can give life to a thought form if you concentrate enough energy on making it real,'' continued Pru. ''So maybe the Reckoner is creating them.'' She shrugged.

''That all makes sense,'' Loki agreed. ''The Reckoner doesn't have a purpose, a reason other than that he wants to play god. And that's exactly what he's doing.''

''Ethan once described the Reckoner as a wight,'' Darcy recalled. ''What is a wight?''

Selene, who had been silent most of the time, now spoke up. ''They're like devas, or elementals, in a sense. Primitive nature spirits, often tied to an area. That explains the connection to the trees and the woods. And the rain.''

Prudence shook her head. ''I still can't believe it. All this time, the answer was just sitting there.''

''Well at least now that's one more famous mystery solved, eh?'' answered Darcy with a smile, which began to falter a little as she went on, ''Of course, it's only really part of the answer.'' She fell into a long, contemplative silence and stayed there for so long that she jumped a little when Loki tapped her on the shoulder. Blinking, she looked around and saw everyone staring at her.

''You're thinking about something. I can feel the wheels spinning in your head,'' Loki whispered gently.

Nodding, Darcy said, ''Another thing about that story I read back on Asgard, the Sky Tower...it reminded me of that old story about the Tower of Babel.''

He gave a shrug. ''I haven't any idea...''

''I know, I know...'' she rushed to quickly explain. ''Way back in the day, the people thought that they could build a tower to heaven, yadda yadda, God got mad and smashed it and said 'no more towers', but the interesting thing about the story was that there was a first _language_. A single language that everyone spoke. And God also got pissed about that and said, 'now you're all gonna speak different languages, so you can't communicate and build towers to heaven anymore.' ''

''Um,'' said Loki. He seemed to be at a loss.

''I'm just using it as a metaphor. This _language_, its the key somehow,'' she continued frantically, pointing down at the manuscript. ''The markings on the doors, the books. It...creates their reality, builds it, almost like DNA or binary code. That's what the Reckoner used to create the Palace of Souls, but he changed it, like we said before, he twisted it to meet his own dark needs.''

''So if it's used to create, then it can also be used to un-create,'' Bruce realised aloud. ''But how?''

* * *

><p>Everyone took a break after that, split off and went their own ways to process what had just happened. Soon the baby woke and after she'd been fed, Loki took her into the large common area of the facility, a wide room, boringly furnished with a few couches and chairs and a TV that was turned off. There were a few tired art prints on the walls: generic, the sort that you'd find in a doctor's waiting room. He paced, thinking, rocking Avalon in his arms as he did so. Their daughter seemed not to be minding the change in surroundings at all, she was merely curious, looking around in that too-alert, thoughtful way that she had. During all of the discussions, she seemed to be listening. He paused a moment and walked over to the window with her, as had been their typical habit on Asgard. Avi liked to look out of windows, a habit that she'd picked up from her mother, he supposed. As they stood there, Avalon reached up her little hand and brushed it against his chin. An idea suddenly jolted across his brain like a meteor. Pieces began to fall into place as if from a great height, they clattered down, jolting and rattling his skull. Turning quickly, he hurried back into the main work station, where Darcy was sitting with Prudence and Heid. ''A mirror,'' he blurted. ''<em>Why does a bird fly into a mirror<em>, that's what the Well said to me.''

Darcy looked up at him with a confused expression. ''A bird? What are you talking about?''

Loki spoke quickly and excitedly. ''Say a bird accidentally finds its way into a house. It gets agitated if it sees a mirror, flies right into it, because...because it thinks that its another room, with another bird. It doesn't understand reflection. Mirrors are gateways. We have to...reflect their doorways, somehow.''

''Well, yes, mirrors might be gateways, but where do they_ lead_ to?'' she asked.

''I think that's highly irrelevant,'' he replied. ''So long as it's not any of the nine worlds, I don't care where they go.''

''Fair enough...'' Darcy's voice sounded doubtful. ''But how...''

''This book. Maybe..it's meant to be read backwards, in a mirror or something in order to un-create,'' Loki suggested. Then, with a sinking feeling inside of him that he tried to will away, he added, ''I think we need to go to where they came from. Not the house in Connecticut, the one in England. The Walters Estate.''

''Not the house,'' spoke up Selene, a shadow passing over her eyes. ''In the ground. Below, far below. The Oldest Place, a place out of time.''

Darcy looked at Loki, her face rather grim and resigned. She gave a weary shrug of her shoulders. ''This has disaster written all over it. We're gonna die. _Again_.''

Loki shook his head. ''Nobody is going to die,'' he told her firmly. ''Don't even entertain the thought. It's not an option.'' The look in his eyes was so stern and sincere that she almost believed him.

**Meanwhile, in New York City**

Everything was quiet. Too quiet. It was as if all of the darkness was momentarily hushed as it collected itself in wait. Steve knew that feeling, the brief and uneasy calm threaded through the air just before the storm began. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, moved closer. It was a person, he saw, hurrying towards him.

''Help!'' she cried, clutching at the Captain. She was the strangest-looking thing, half young girl, half old woman. She was like a wraith. Her matted long grey hair hung in limp wet strands around her face. She was crying, and her tears mingled with the rain. ''I don't want to go!'' Bony, cold fingers dug urgently into his arms with a surprisingly iron grip. ''I don't want to go!'' Her eyes were burning, pleading, the eyes of a horse trapped in a burning barn. Steve looked down and saw that she'd walked clean through the soles of her thin slippers and her feet were bleeding. ''You don't need to go anywhere,'' he told her firmly, lifting her into his arms. She was so thin and light, as if she had tiny, hollow bird bones. ''I've got you. What's your name?''

''Olivia,'' she choked out. ''Olivia Ebert.''

* * *

><p>Her head feeling strangely light and echoey, Darcy went into the room where they were staying and changed into more comfortable clothes, yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She went into the small bathroom and splashed some water on her face. As she walked back out, the hairs on the back of her neck rose slightly and she could sense a distinct shifting in the atmosphere.<p>

''Jesus _Christ_!'' she yelped, jumping back a little as the air settled and she could see a familiar ghostly outline in front of her.

''Really, no,'' said Ethan Montauk.

''What are you doing_ here_?'' asked Darcy, narrowing her eyes.

''I heard your voice again,'' he replied. ''It made me remember something.''

Darcy found herself suddenly very apprehensive. ''What?''

''Something about daughters, it seemed,'' Ethan answered in a soft voice, almost to himself.

Her lips collapsed into a deep frown and she felt a cold pang in her stomach. ''What do you mean?''

''The Reckoner. He has a pattern. One of the most notable people to vanish from Roanoke was Virginia Dare, the first child born in the colonies. Helen Walters. Anna-Lily. He seems to have a penchant for collecting the daughters of powerful men, like a virgin sacrifice, or some such thing.'' He shrugged. An abrupt and very unpleasant chill went along Darcy's spine as she thought about her own little daughter. Yet she also noticed something else, something hidden in the spirit's eyes.

''You knew Helen, once,'' she began, following a hunch that was growing stronger by the minute. ''Just how well exactly did you know her?''

He was utterly silent for a moment, his head lowered. Then he raised it and met her eyes.''I loved her too,'' Ethan said in a hushed voice. ''More than you could possibly understand. But she only had eyes for Joe.''

''You,'' Darcy breathed softly, her mind whirring. ''_You_ were the one who killed Joe Haven.'' She suddenly _knew_ it, beyond any doubt, knew it as strongly as if the words were coming from Ethan's own mouth. ''You sabotaged the ritual and stole the missing pieces of the grimoire.''

''I did what I had to do,'' he replied with a rueful shake of his head. ''I loved her. I tried to protect her, for all the good it did. She couldn't see what he really was, what any of them really were.''

Darcy couldn't help but feel a deep pang of sympathy. So this was a story about love after all. Maybe everything was a love story, at its core, and the madness and chaos simply revolved in orbit around that one centre. ''Did she ever know how you felt?''

''Even if she did, it wouldn't have mattered. Look at me, Lucy,'' Ethan said bitterly, sweeping a hand to indicate his damaged eye, his slight stature. ''I was as scarred and pitiful in life as I am now. I could never have compared to Joe in her mind.''

More realisation came flooding in after this confession.''The painting! I always wondered why it was in the house, but now it makes sense. Joe didn't even paint it, did he? You did.'' Once again, Darcy wasn't sure how she suddenly knew this, but it was a certainty beyond doubt.

''Most of what Joe Haven was was a fiction,'' he stated darkly. ''He was the best sort of con man. He did paint landscapes, but he was shite at faces. He loved Helen, though. And that was the part that I couldn't stomach, frankly. Her own father offered up her soul as payment of a debt, and then excused his actions by claiming that they were done out of love. She was surrounded by such madness, such evil. Serpents at her heels all the time. I couldn't let it happen!'' He broke off in a sob, covering his face, and Darcy couldn't help but wince at the sound of his crying. Wind screaming through an abandoned house, the worst sound in the world. ''I tried so hard to save her, and she died anyway. She died so alone, she deserved better.''

''Immortality?''

''No!'' Ethan cried, raising his head to look at Darcy, eyes blazing. ''I never wanted her to live forever, I never wanted her frozen like that. I wanted her to have a normal, happy human life. To enjoy many peaceful, lovely years and then grow old, the way that she should have. I never wanted to play god with anyone. No good has ever come of that. If this is what gods are like, then I say no thank you to the entire thing. I'll just take nature. It's far more simple and lovely.'' He rested his head in his hand for a moment, then lifted it again. ''I brought her flowers,'' he said with a faraway smile. ''She loved marigolds. It was so funny. I would have thought roses or lilies but no. Marigolds.'' He laughed, a choked sound. ''I died in the garden.'' His voice now sounded like it was coming out of a dream, spooky and gray and half-conscious. ''I'm grateful for that.''

A sharp shiver went up Darcy's spine and she fought back tears and nausea enough to try to redirect the poor soul. ''Ethan, can you tell me about the book?''

''Which book? There's ever so many.'' His voice was a vague sing-song.

Darcy wondered if it was possible to throttle a ghost. ''Stop being obtuse, you know which one I mean,'' she said, trying to snap him out of Wonderland. ''The important one, the one that Lord Walters went all over the world to find. Who hid it? In the very beginning, before he had it. Who ripped it apart?''

''Witches,'' Ethan said, lucidity temporarily returning. ''Who else?'' He gave a chuckle. ''They were the ones who managed to push them back, to trap them deep underground. And how were they repaid, for saving countless lives and souls? With an Inquisition, of course. With hangings, burnings, and dunking stools. Torture and death. The usual gratitude.''

''You said you knew Helen too,'' he continued, his voice growing wispy once more. ''I wish I could find her. I'd do anything to see her again, just for a moment, so that I could tell her...'' He was beginning to blur out, to fade and disappear back into the ether. ''Wait!'' Darcy cried. ''Don't go yet! Please, Ethan!'' But her pleading was lost on him as he continued to disappear, until she was yelling at a blank space.

* * *

><p>Andrews had been uncharacteristically silent for the past several days, which set Natasha's teeth on edge. Now, he was sitting inside his cell, almost too still, a weird, uncomfortable smile on his face, as if he knew a great secret.<p>

''What the hell is he grinning about in there?'' Bruce said, peering closely at the screen that monitored the room where he was kept. ''I don't like it.''

''Me either,'' said Natasha. ''Check the news feeds.'' Banner did so, pulling up the most recent stories coming in from all over the world. ''Oh, shit,'' he said, upon switching over to BBC. Reports were coming in from London. Reports of infection, infection spreading rapidly.

Darcy now hurried back down the hall and into the main work station, a chill still crawling along her skin, goosebumps all along her arms. The first thing that she saw was Prudence's mother, slumped forward in her chair. ''Selene?'' she said, hurrying over to her. The Witch raised her head, seeming slightly dazed and disoriented, also frightened. Very frightened. Her voice came like a thick whisper.

''There are always doors. Secret ways that connect where we can't see them, like the roots of a tree stretching underground. Old passages, long forgotten. Now, they wake.''


	32. Chapter 32

**Hey guys, I hope that you are all doing well! Here is the next chapter for you. I've got some cool news to share: next weekend I am going ghost hunting with a paranormal investigation group that my friend runs: we are going to spend the night at Moundsville Penitentiary in West Virginia! Maybe I'll get some more spooky inspiration for this story, who knows? Wish me luck!**

* * *

><p><em>It is not down on any map; true places never are.<em>

**-Herman Melville **

Prudence was now sitting with her mother, the two of them talking quietly with pensive expressions on their faces. Her mind still reeling from yet another ghostly encounter and now more horrifying new developments, Darcy was standing in the common area, alone, staring at the television screen. Loki came to stand beside her.

''What happened?'' he asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Frowning deeply, Darcy replied, ''Selene had some kind of a vision. And there's...something happening in England, apparently there's infection starting there too.''

''The sky is dark,'' observed Loki, looking at the footage on the screen, the panicked people trying to leave. ''Another portal must have opened. She was right, there's more than one. And I'll bet anything I know exactly where it is.''

''The Walters Estate,'' answered Darcy with a heavy sigh, an image of the vast house looming in her mind. Always mansions surrounded by trees, palaces of evil and haunted things.

He nodded gravely. ''We need to come up with a plan before this thing spreads even further, before the entire world belongs to them again.''

She knew that, it was weighing so heavily on her that her chest felt crushed. Inside, though she didn't want to admit it to Loki, though they had come so far, Darcy had a secret fear that this time, they might be beat. It was a small fear, but it was jagged and cold, sitting inside her stomach, lodged just under her ribs like a piece of shrapnel. Drawing herself up, she stalwartly ignored it, and with a nod, walked back into the other room. Prudence was now sitting at the table, stirring another cup of terrible coffee with a spoon, staring down into the cup with a faraway expression, as if she could divine some message from the milky patterns swirling there. ''Hey,'' Darcy said, and the girl looked up at her. ''Hey yourself,'' she said, giving a light, though tired, smile.

''How's your mom?''

''She's ok now, she's resting,'' Pru answered, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. ''It's not easy for her to have visions, especially when they're this strong. And it can be very isolating. I mean, it's not exactly the sort of thing that you can talk about with your neighbours or your doctor. For a long time, she said that she thought she was crazy, or that she had a brain tumor or something. And then Grandmother explained to her that she wasn't crazy, that it was a gift.''

Darcy smiled in warm recollection. ''Heid said the same thing to me once.''

''Yeah, Natasha told me a little bit more about...you know, about who you really are. It's pretty unbelievable,'' admitted Prudence. ''Everything that I thought I knew has totally gotten turned upside down and shaken over the past few months.''

''Me too,'' said Darcy with a weary laugh. ''Hey, I'm sorry that I accidentally dragged you guys into this.''

Prudence shook her head. ''Hon, I think we were already part of it, somehow.'' She stared down into the cup again for a moment and then looked back up at Darcy with a wistful expression. ''You once asked me about gods. It's so funny. You were the god-bothered one.''

Wondering at the strange expression, Darcy asked, ''What does that mean?''

''It's a term that's occasionally used by neopagans. If a deity takes a certain...special interest in you, look out, cause you're in for a time. They don't go away. If they want you, they'll _have_ you.'' She grinned. ''You're definitely the most god-bothered person I've ever met.''

* * *

><p>After this conversation with Prudence, Darcy went over to one of the work stations and sat down. Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to think. The Voynich manuscript lay on the table a few feet away, safely tucked inside its plastic casing once again. With her eyes shut, she could almost hear a noise emitting from it, a strange frequency, an indistinct humming sound. Then footsteps registered, moving closer and closer. Someone tapped her on the nose. She smiled and her eyelids fluttered open. Loki stood there, holding Avi, who reached for her. Darcy took their daughter out of his arms and cuddled her close. She knew that she'd never get tired of the warm, soft little body against her. Brushing a kiss against the top of Avi's head, she looked up at Loki. He was staring back at her, at the two of them, with a soft expression that was hard to describe, like the fading light of the last day of summer.<p>

Then, reluctantly, he turned and his gaze fell on the manuscript laying on the table. It made his brain itch. It was an almost taunting annoyance, the feeling that he was so very close to understanding something that lay just out of reach. ''Do you think that we can work with this?''

''Yes, I do, but I don't see _how,_'' she replied honestly. ''We don't create the way that they do. I don't understand the mechanism of it, still. It's magic and science, like I said, insanely advanced magic and science.'' She looked up at him, suddenly hopeful, eyes sparking with an idea. ''Let me show it to you.''

He looked at her sideways. ''What?''

Darcy bounced Avi gently as she explained. ''You...understand this sort of thing more than I do, you've been doing it for way longer, and you're way more powerful. If I can show you what I saw when I 'read' that book, do you think you might be able to figure it out?''

After considering this for a moment, he answered, ''I might. But I'm not making any guarantees.''

''Ok,'' she said, standing up. She looked at Avi. ''Do you want to help too?'' she asked. A bubble of drool was the response. ''I think that's a yes,'' Darcy said, wiping off the baby's face. She walked over to the table. Loki carefully pulled the pages out of their case. Darcy hoped and prayed that the document would make it back to Yale unharmed, yet in the back of her mind she harboured serious doubts about that. SHIELD just might have a lot of explaining to do to some very angry librarians.

As her hand settled on the page, she opened her mind and allowed the flood of information to begin. Loki's hand came down to rest over top of hers. At the same time she opened wider her connection to him, transferring it over so that they were like a three way circuit. His eyes closed as he absorbed it all, listening and feeling, the information singing through him, rushing like water. ''There are certain...very basic building blocks,'' he said finally.

''Like, uh, proteins?'' Darcy suggested. Biology hadn't really been her strongest subject either. In fact, during an exam once she'd been at such a loss that when the question asked to describe all the stages of the Krebs cycle, she'd drawn a picture of a man wearing a hat and a little name tag riding a bicycle. His name tag read ''Mr. Krebs.'' The professor had handed it back to her with the suggestion that she drop the class or take an Incomplete.

''I was going to say like...keys on a piano,'' replied Loki. ''Finite amount of keys, near infinite possible combinations, only limited by imagination.''

She knew that he could also play the piano, which he'd demonstrated for her when they were in Prague. She'd found it both extremely erotic and wildly unfair. ''Which ones are the keys?''

Loki looked very thoughtful. ''All of them, I suppose,'' he said. His voice softened and so did the colour of his eyes, going green like deep leaves and moss and covered-over secrets. He continued, ''Music, life itself, everything begins very simply and basically. Symphonies don't spring fully formed into existence, they're created with a formula, a language, very slowly and painstakingly. Human beings don't just appear, cells need to divide and build organs and systems, via a code. Human DNA is really nothing more than a blueprint.''

''Intent,'' Darcy whispered.

''What?''

''Magic operates on the basis of intent, of...desire, but so does a lot of creation, if you really think about it. Sure, the symphonies are written using a formula, but there's something else too, some fire underneath it all, driving it. Without some kind of intent, it's all just...''

''A jumbled pile of letters,'' he finished.

* * *

><p><strong>Later that evening<strong>

Darcy looked up as the door opened and Loki entered their room. They had decided to spend just a few hours alone together to recharge. ''Avi's fine, Prudence and Bruce are watching her.''

''Yeah,'' a small smile crossed Darcy's lips at this. ''Do you think that there's something going on with those two?''

He shrugged. ''Possibly. They're both rather...'' he searched for the right word. ''_Nerdy_. He's a little old for her though, isn't he?''

Now it was Darcy's turn to shrug. ''I'm sure that they said the same about us when we became a thing.''

''Darling, I think the age difference was the least of their concerns.''

''Yeah, you're probably right. It ain't nothing but a number, anyhow.'' She walked over to him and wrapped him in her arms. ''How are you doing? I mean, really.''

''I'm not sure,'' he replied honestly. Loki's eyes had shifted to a very foggy blue-green, which meant that there were a lot of thoughts swirling through his mind like clouds. He ran his hands through her hair and over her shoulders as she rested her head against his chest. ''We still have a lot of work to do.''

''Yeah, but at least we're getting somewhere. That was a great thought you had, about the mirrors,'' Darcy told him, trying now to be the positive one, though that fear-shard still sat perilously close to her heart. ''We just have to figure out how to actually put it into practice. We have to reverse creation. Not destroy, just like...overwrite?'' Her brow furrowed and she scrunched up her nose. ''What's that one physics law, energy can't be created or destroyed, it can only change form?''

''As far as they know,'' sighed Loki. ''I can't wait until the day that a fuller understanding of quantum mechanics finally turns everything on its head and you all learn to look at the universe a little differently.''

''There's my snobby guy!'' Darcy smiled and squeezed him. ''Well, until that day arrives, we're just going to have to go on what we know.'' _What we know. _She decided not to tell him about Ethan's confession just yet, it was on the edge of her tongue and then receded to some quiet place inside her mind, waiting for another day.

''It was different this time, your...reading.'' Loki noted, unable to hide the relief in his voice. She nodded. ''Yes, it was. Much calmer and softer, clearer too. See, before, it would feel like...this burning swarm of hornets that would sweep over me, and part of me would always be pushed back, held down. It was like an attack, almost, that's why I hated it so much. This time...I didn't get pushed back. It was like the information was just always part of me and I was tapping into it for the first time.''

''Maybe your gift is...evolving, somehow. Perhaps you've achieved a kind of symbiosis with whatever force provides you with the information.''

''Well, whatever's happening, it's definitely an improvement, that's for damn sure.'' Taking Loki's hand, Darcy pulled him over to the small bed and they sat down together.

''Are you happy to be back?'' he asked. She gave a little sigh. ''I'll be happy once it's all finished, when I can finally relax.''

He reached over and toyed with the ends of her hair, moving closer, until his voice was a cool breath on her neck. ''And when it's over, what's the first thing you want to do?''

She thought about it, then said, ''I want to take a walk, just you, me and Avi. I don't care where we walk to, but I want it to be someplace pretty, with trees. Lots of trees. Like the kind with the pink blossoms on it, cherry blossoms. Those. I want it to be quiet there, peaceful. And we just walk.''

He turned her face to him and leaned down, kissing her with a kind of soft intensity that she hadn't felt in some time. It was a lingering kiss, one that you could drown in. She scarcely even realized that they were now on the bed and his fingers were moving over her, pulling at her clothing, which was soon tossed to the floor. It had been too long, much too long. _Let me drown in you. _This was better, now, this felt like them again. She could sense some of the tension finally draining out of her limbs, the fear fading and becoming less solid. Her head hit the pillow and she looked up at Loki as he settled himself over her body, lips trailing along her neck. Darcy relished the weight of his body over hers, the feeling of being surrounded, engulfed. It was a sensual enveloping; they slowly faded into each other until they reached a place where time stopped and there was nothing else, only the feel of hands and mouths and tongues. The rhythm of his heartbeat swallowed hers until they were perfectly in sync. Like they were at the beginning. Like they would be at the end.

Still wrapped in his arms, Darcy fell asleep in slow motion, as if she were watching herself step over a threshold and into a dream, so much more real and vivid than ever before. Her dreamscapes were now evolving to the point where she was certain beyond any doubt that what Loki had once told her was correct, that dreams were a place, a region not on any map. _We forget our dreams when we wake, but they do not forget us. _They were a space of raw creation, where the walls of reality became permeable, and able to be recreated- and uncreated.

* * *

><p>''Isn't she big for her age?'' Pru asked Bruce Banner as they played babysitter for Avalon. The unlikely trio were sitting on the common room floor with books and various toys. The Witch kept handing different coloured blocks to the baby, who would then toss them to the floor. She seemed to think it was a fun game.<p>

''Hey, I can't comment on that, there's no way to predict what this kid is going to turn out to be, the whole situation was bizarre from the beginning,'' he answered, though he had to admit that he'd been more than a little startled to see that Avalon, at less than two months, appeared to be almost a year old. ''She seems so...smart,'' added Prudence. ''It's in her eyes.''

''She's also incredibly dexterous,'' he replied. ''Not only can she sit up by herself, she can grab things, lift them, hold them. That's unusual, I mean, in terms of normal child development. I wouldn't be surprised if she starts _crawling _soon. Or talking.''

A weird look crossed Prudence's face. She opened her mouth to ask something, closed it, then opened it again. ''Is she...I can't believe I'm asking this...is she _human_?''

Bruce shook his head. ''Technically, no.''

''This _is_ bizarre. She is a cutie pie, though, yes isn't she?'' Pru tickled Avalon under the chin and gave her a little squeeze. Bruce smiled. ''So what do you do?'' he asked her, startled that he'd never thought to ask before. ''I mean, out in the real world, when you're not getting roped into trying to avert an apocalypse?''

Shifting on the floor to a more comfortable position, Prudence answered, ''I help my friend run a small used book store. We specialize in occult and metaphysical books. It's a really neat place, there's a yoga studio upstairs. I do tarot card readings there too, a few days a week. I'm also apprenticing with an acupuncturist because I want to get into alternative and homeopathic medicine.''

Bruce smiled again. ''That sounds really nice. It suits you.'' She gave a warm grin in response, seeming as if she wanted to say something else, but then something dragged her attention away.

''What the hell...'' Prudence said, looking down at Avi. Apparently, her tossing of the blocks to the floor was not a random behaviour, she had created a few distinct piles, quietly sorting all the blocks by color. ''Um, are you seeing this?''

''Yep,'' Banner replied with a slight frown. Picking up a green block and a red one, he held them both up in front of the baby. ''Avi,'' he said. ''Which color is green?'' Her tiny hand extended and tapped at the green block.

''Maybe it was a lucky guess,'' Prudence whispered, shaking her head. ''Try again.''

He picked up yet another block. ''Find _yellow_, Avi.'' She did.

''Alright,'' said Bruce. ''Go get me some of those little wooden letter blocks over in the corner, and the ones with the shapes, too. We're gonna do a kind of makeshift IQ test.''

* * *

><p>Darcy woke up about an hour later. Loki was awake, laying beside her. ''Hello there,'' he said, once he saw her eyes open. He also saw something else there, some spark of an idea. ''What is it?'' he asked.<p>

''I swear, I watched myself falling asleep. And then I watched myself dreaming, from somewhere else. That place.'' She swallowed. ''The landscape changes but I feel like its all part of the same world.''

_We were the first and we were alone._ She repeated aloud the words that she had seen carved into the trunk of the yew tree.''All that time, I assumed that they were talking about them being the first creatures on Earth, but I think that...I think that they were the first_ dreamers_. They created the dreamspace, and that's where they went, when they faded. We're thinking about this wrong, like you said. In the dream, the normal rules of physics don't apply.''

''So you're saying that in order to uncreate what they did, we have to go...''

''Through the looking-glass,'' she finished. ''Into the dreaming.''

* * *

><p>Loki went to retrieve Avalon from Bruce and Prudence, all the while turning over in his mind everything that Darcy had said. ''She's been fine, we had a great time,'' Pru began, and he could sense a wavering hesitation threaded through her tone. Then she seemed to not be able to contain herself any longer and blurted, ''Oh, and also, your baby is a genius. She already knows all of her colors, shapes, and almost every letter! I know it seems impossible, but Bruce and I tested her.''<p>

Loki simply shrugged at her, though he now felt a prickling tightness in his chest. ''Prudence, you can't compare her to ordinary children, she's different. She's...precocious.''

Bruce snorted. ''That's the understatement of the century,'' he muttered quietly.

Annoyed now, Loki picked Avi up off of the floor. He didn't care for those two insinuating that there was something strange about his child, didn't like the way that they were staring at her. ''It's not like you're both entirely _normal_ yourselves,'' he added, trying to keep his tone light, though there was a thinly veiled sharpness to the words.

''Let's not have the flower child and the green man watch her so often from now on,'' he said as he returned to the room with Avalon. Darcy looked curious and amused. ''Why?''

''Because they're...testing her and picking at her, trying to figure out what she is, and I don't like it.''

Frowning, she asked, ''What kinds of tests are you talking about?''

''Colours and shapes and letters and all that nonsense.''

''How awful!'' Darcy gasped in mock-horror, putting a hand over her heart.

''You laugh, but they've caught onto the fact that she's...unusually intelligent for her age, which we were already aware of, and they're treating her like some kind of...test subject, or a performing circus animal.''

''Loki, you are getting _way_ too agitated over this. Prudence and Bruce are our friends, or at least they're _my_ friends, and they're not going to do anything that will hurt Avi, they're probably just interested. Not interested in a 'we're going to lock her in a lab for the rest of her life,' but in a 'oh my, this kid is special, that's really cool,' kind of way.''

Loki still looked doubtful. Then Darcy said, after thinking about it for a minute, ''Wait, does she know all of her colors and shapes?''

''Apparently so,'' he said.

''Bad-ass!'' she exclaimed approvingly, taking her daughter out of his arms and smiling at her. ''You're gonna be a regular Good Will Hunting, yes you are,'' she cooed. Then her face fell a little. ''How did I not already know this? God, I'm her _mother_, you would think I'd be aware that my kid was...''

''Precocious,'' Loki finished. He seemed to find it the most sensible term for the matter.

''Yeah. I feel like I'm...neglectful or something.''

''You're_ not_ neglectful,'' he said firmly. ''You knew that she was special, you just never specifically tried to quantify that special-ness or put a label or a number on it. You see her as your daughter first, and whatever else she may be second, which is the way that it should be. Children should be loved for who they are, not whatever useful talents they may possess.''

''You're right,'' she said. ''But at least now we know. And we should probably keep a closer eye on her development, just because.''

As Loki watched Darcy holding Avalon, a weird feeling began swirling and building throughout him, until he felt...warm. Bright warmth infusing every remaining cold and craggy place inside, every old scar. Along with the warmth came a tide of memory.

_Once he learned the truth about his origins, it all began to go wrong, every attempt that he made was thwarted. He would never prove himself, and Odin would never love him, never accept him completely the way he did Thor. At best, he'd always be the shadow, following behind. It hurt too much. It couldn't be tolerated. Something needed to change, so that he could show them all, make them all see. He had so much work to do. _

_'I'll never love anything again', he vowed to himself. Love weakens you, makes you soft and easy to slice at. No, must be hard like ice, hard like stone. Something solid to stand upon._

_ Yet the wanting never went away. In the absence of love, that space inside him grew wild and mean, and there were storms there. They signalled to all the darkness around, drawing it near. I have hunger, it said, I am...desperate. Desperation in turn reached out and held hands with the darkness, with the things that crouch and slither in the shadows. I am empty. I can be used._

_Always being used. Means to an end. True intentions were lost and bent to the will of something else, the Other. He didn't understand the emptiness. Didn't recognise the sound of his own screams, they were so strange and faraway, echoes in a cave. The space filled in, promises and lies and burning blue light. Part of him was gone, hollowed out. Just as well. There was never anything good in there anyway. Teeth, those cold crushing jaws pressing metallic blood gears grinding stop and start-please, no, too late, too late. _

_Smile all empty in the mirror. No great loss, he whispered through cracked lips. No great loss. There was never anything good in there anyway._

_But then. Then._

_Her eyes were so pretty and blue and sad. It made something stretch and wake up inside of him, after a sleep so deep and long that it had nearly been death. Down fell the snow, ticking away the seconds to the end of the world. Don't take this from me. Not now, not now. We need more time, we should have more time. Five words. _

_'I want to help you.'_

_Five words, changing everything, a magic at work that not even he could understand, setting in motion a chain reaction that had somehow led to creating this very moment, the two of them before him, the woman and the child, and so many other beautiful and impossible things, springing up out of the ground, like marigolds and yew trees._

''I love you,'' he said suddenly.


	33. Chapter 33

_There are doors that let you in_

_and out but never open_

_But there are trapdoors_

_That you can't come back from_

**-Radiohead**

_''I love you.'' _

After this declaration, Darcy sat utterly still, letting the feeling of happy shock wash over her. ''I thought you might never say it,'' she admitted, eyes bright with tears that she blinked away. She knew that he meant it, knew also that it couldn't have been easy for him to say those words. Actually, she was amazed that he had spoken them this soon, she'd assumed that she would be waiting for a long, long time.

Loki seemed to be able to breathe a little more easily now. In fact, they both drew in a deep breath and their eyes met. It was Avi who broke the silence of the moment with a soft gurgling sound, and Darcy smiled and let out a little laugh. ''Ok, miss. Time for a nap.'' She put her down in the safe little nest of blankets and pillows that they'd created for her, and the baby was asleep in a few minutes.

''Let's go talk to everyone,'' she said, brushing back her hair, filing the happy feeling away so that she could return to it later, when there was less that needed her immediate attention. ''See what they have to say about this...idea.''

''Well, it's all still tremendously vague,'' he admitted, also falling back into work mode, breaking the spell of his confession. ''I think that's more or less what they're going to say. Either that, or they're going to think we're mad.''

Darcy gave him a look. ''We are.''

It _was_ a very strange idea, and it was a reach, this notion that they could somehow reverse the damage that had taken place and end the invasion by entering into a dreamspace, crossing from one side of the veil to another. Even Darcy knew it sounded bizarre when first spoken aloud, but she relied now on her sudden intuitive instincts more than ever, and they had never steered her wrong. They gathered everyone together in the common room, including Tony Stark, who had very recently arrived back in Norway, and began.

Oddly enough, it was Prudence who seemed the most doubtful after they explained Darcy's idea. ''So, you want to save the world and reverse everything by _dreaming_?'' Her eyes were wide with incredulity.

Darcy sighed. ''Pru,_ you_ were the one who taught me about stuff like lucid dreaming and astral projection to begin with.''

''Yes, but you're not talking about either of those things here,'' the young woman stated emphatically. ''I don't know where you're getting your ideas about what a dream actually_ is_.'' Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy saw Selene and Heid exchange a glance. ''Sweetie,''said the blonde woman, ''I don't know where you're getting your ideas about what reality is.'' She smiled gently at her daughter.

''A dream within a dream,'' Bruce mumbled, though he still looked like he didn't believe a word of it either. ''How poetic.''

Heid seemed to take this as her cue to speak up. ''The fact of the matter is that still now, in this advanced day, we know very little about consciousness. About the mind,'' she said, tapping her head for emphasis. ''All we can measure is brain activity, brain waves, and what these might mean. Beyond that there is much that remains hidden from us. We wake, we go about our days so focused and busy, darting from place to place, we numb ourselves then fall asleep, vanish into a blur of darkness echoing with the scraps of a hundred different things. This is how it is for most. Because_ they do not understand_. They do not understand how to open their eyes and see where the reality is.'' She gave them all a long, almost sad look. ''I pity so many, they will never understand magick.'' The the seer's gaze was drawn right to Loki and Darcy, she fixed them with her dark and ancient eyes and continued.

''The dreaming always waits there, like an island. We dream, and we are as the tide of the ocean, brushing against it and then retreating. Over time, we move against it so much that we alter it, erode it, change the landscape of this world and others without realizing. It is a place, a place that we know, but have forgotten.'' She sighed. ''We have cut ourselves off too much. In a sense, I can almost understand why they reach for us so much. We are now the ones who are more like ghosts, numb and busy shells moving inside of a large machine.''

Heid's words made Darcy think suddenly of a Hieronymous Bosch painting. The thought of art, in turn, made her sad inside, deep down, made her miss Paris even more than before. She missed the smell of paint and turpentine, the low rough hissing scratch of charcoal over paper, that beautiful foreign city with all its smells and sounds outside the window. Their apartment was full of paintings, sketches, memories. She wondered again what would happen to them. It made her heart feel echoey in her chest, shallow thudding from far away. Loki's fingers against her arm pulled her back to herself.

''Alright,'' said Pru very wearily. ''Suppose I did believe all of that, how do you propose to hold and control the dream for that long? Won't you just wake up? Shouldn't you take some kind of crazy sedative, like in _Inception_?''

Loki rolled his eyes. ''First off, Prudence, that is a movie, overrated I might add-and I've grown ill of the endless references to it,'' he said with a sideways glance at Darcy, who had mentioned the film several times during their previous adventure. ''We don't need to be sedated, in fact, I'm sure the problem, in the end, won't be _keeping_ us asleep.'' There was something about his tone that sent a small shiver climbing up and down Darcy's spine. ''You're not stupid, but you _are_ far more skeptical than you've let on. Trance journeys, seidr, dreams, they all fall under the same basic principles: you are traveling. You are going Elsewhere. And that place is real, whether you believe it or not. We are going to that island, that place most only brush the edges of. Do you understand now?'' His voice was hard but not unkind. Prudence swallowed and nodded.

''He's really...intense sometimes,'' she leaned over and whispered to Darcy. ''You have no idea,'' came the reply.

Bruce Banner seemed now to be thinking about something. ''You know, I'm not sure if this would matter at all or be useful, but I had an old contact at Cambridge, he's a neurologist...in his lab he had those tanks...sensory deprivation tanks. He used to use them to study...well, consciousness and brainwaves and all those things we don't understand.'' He smiled fadingly, and by the time he began to speak again the smile had disappeared. ''I mean, do you think something like that might help? I was taking into account what Prudence originally said, about needing sedation. I agree that in your...particular case,'' he nodded at Loki and Darcy, ''that would probably not be the best idea, however, I want this plan to be enacted in a controlled environment, where you can both be monitored. Call it a precaution.''

''It might also be beneficial to be closer to the event in question, to the portal,'' Selene offered. ''The energy will be strongest there, the walls of reality at their thinnest.''

''If you go to England, I'm going with you,'' Natasha said. Her eyes were narrowed. ''I want to take a tour of the Walters Estate.''

'Who all is going, and where?'' demanded Prudence, her voice awash with exasperation.

''First things first,'' Bruce said calmly. ''Let me call Dr. Fortingall, see if he's even still there, and if we can possibly use his equipment.''

* * *

><p>A little while later, Banner returned. His expression was brighter than before. ''Well, he said I was lucky I called when I did, he was just about to leave for Spain. Apparently things are worse than even the news is letting on, and most of the uninfected are leaving, if they can, before...well, in case they decide to do a quarantine. Quarantines are much easier on an island, you know. The World Health Organization is getting themselves involved now, this whole thing is becoming a bureaucratic nightmare. Anyway, he said that is we can get there in the next two days, we can use the facility, but he won't wait any longer than that, so our window is getting narrower.''<p>

As the darkness closes in, Loki thought. Like the moon, getting thinner and thinner, the light swallowed by something ancient and hungry.

Tony Stark had been remarkably quiet during the earlier discussion. Now he clapped his hands, roused to action. ''Alright, we need planning, people, we need logistics, the clock is ticking. It looks like we're going to have to split up, unfortunately.''

''I'm going, it seems,'' Bruce said. ''I need to work the equipment and monitor Darcy and Loki. Natasha, you said that you're going. Prudence...um, if you would like to come along I could use an assistant, but if you don't I completely...''

''Yes, I'll do it,'' she answered very quickly, seeming almost relieved that she'd been asked.

''Avi cannot come, it's too dangerous,'' Darcy said firmly. Though it would break her heart to leave her baby behind, even temporarily, she would rather be sure that she was safe. ''Can-''

''I'll watch her,'' volunteered Selene. ''We'll be staying put for the time being, I guess, I'd be more than happy to look after her.'' Heid nodded in agreement. ''Hey, I'll help look after the kid too,'' added Tony. ''I was a child genius myself, after all, we have to stick together. She'll be building circuit boards in no time.'' Loki rolled his eyes, but good-naturedly. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he was actually glad to see the billionaire again, he always added much-needed levity to these situations.

''I'll go ahead and work on getting flight clearance,'' Natasha said. ''There may be a lot of arm twisting involved.''

The group dispersed for a little while after that, everyone scattering to make their own preparations. Alone in the main lab towards the front entrance, Stark heard a loud, insistent pounding on the door. Frowning, he hurried over and opened it. There stood Jane Foster. ''The _hell_?'' He looked around at the landscape, the sky. ''Where did you come from?''

''From Asgard,'' she said, rather impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. ''Frigga told me to come, she had Odin send me here. I have no idea why. Now can I please come inside, it's a little chilly out here.''

''Oh, yeah, where are my manners?'' he moved aside with a sigh. '' 'People come and go so _quickly_ here,' he added in his best Judy Garland impression, with a fleeting wish that Steve had been there to get the reference for once.

* * *

><p>Everyone was busy, swallowed up hurriedly into planning and preparations. Darcy had been very surprised and pleased at her friend's sudden appearance and seemed to think it an auspicious sign. Loki regarded it with apprehension. He had said very little to Jane when he saw that she had been returned. Now, he caught the scientist as she was walking down the hall.''May I speak with you for a moment?'' he asked.<p>

''Sure,'' she answered, mildly surprised and perhaps a little cautious. They stood off to one side of the room, facing each other.

''I don't know what is going to happen,'' he said tensely, gaze flickering over to the window. He started pacing, a restlessness in the movement. His eyes looked haunted. ''But I have certain doubts that I can't shake.'' He pulled out a photograph and handed it to the astrophysicist. She had been filled in on the details of their plan, and while her initial reaction was very similar to Prudence's, she seemed to be placated by knowing that it would at least be done under strict observation. ''If we don't come back, I want you to give this to Avi. Tell her that we're not gone, that we're waiting for her. That we're perfectly alright...and that we love her. Can you do that? I know that you and I have never been the fondest of one another, but if you won't do it for me, please do it for Darcy.''

''I don't like this,'' admitted Jane, though she accepted the photograph. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. ''What aren't you telling me? No...what aren't you telling Darcy?''

''Just promise me,'' he said, and his voice was so heavy, his eyes so filled with sharp grief that she found herself saying, ''Alright.''

* * *

><p>After making several phone calls, twisting more than a few arms and calling in many favours, the Black Widow was staring out the window, not really looking at anything in particular, fixing her eyes on the horizon, where the fading blue of the sky touched down to earth. Heid was seated on a chair a few feet away, deep in quiet thought. ''It reminds me of Australia,'' Natasha said.<p>

''What does?'' asked Prudence, who was hurrying around, packing up supplies, breaking the meditative atmosphere of the room. ''All this...talk about dreaming,'' the assassin replied. It had made her think back to her younger days, when she had been sent to the continent on an assignment. She'd found herself loving it there, had always wanted to go back at a time when...well, a time when she was ordinary, and could enjoy a place the way ordinary folks did.

''The Aboriginal peoples there have a kind of similar idea in their cosmology. I thought it was so hard to understand, at first, that there is this kind of collective...everywhere, everywhen of creation, this vastness that we can't see. I mean, you hear this stuff and you think, 'that's a nice story.' _Stories are always nice, _that's what someone once told me,'' she said, thinking suddenly of Hesja Martinsson. ''But nothing is ever what it seems.''

Natasha allowed herself to sigh deeply. ''I don't like this feeling,'' she admitted. ''Of being so...real, so close to something huge and terrifying. I never knew it all stretched this far, was this connected, until I met those two. I started to change. I started to question everything, so much more than before. I keep trying to go back, to turn away from it, but I can't, and I hate myself for it. I feel weak.'' She felt weak right then as well, ashamed at herself for admitting so much, for becoming so alarmingly sentimental.

Heid, who had been listening the whole time, now reached over and took Natasha's hand in hers.

''So wrong,'' she spoke up quietly. ''This is not weakness. This is the greatest strength. To not fear the wild and impossible truths that are hiding all around us. To face them head on and not cower and shrink before them. You were chosen for this long ago, that's why the roads keep leading you here. You have not lost your fire, you've only just found it. It is not a sin to care, to love,'' she added.

* * *

><p>''This is all moving so fast,'' Darcy said to Loki as they sat together in their room. ''I swear, I never thought that they'd actually go for it. Maybe its less of a reach than we thought.''<p>

''Or maybe we're just so out of options that anything looks good,'' he answered practically. ''But no, it's...unfortunately it may be the solution.''

''You seem very...grim and uncertain about this,'' she observed, cocking her head to the side as she studied him.

Loki took a moment to consider his reply, then said, ''This will be a wilder place than we have ever encountered. It is powerful. It is alive. It is...the beginning, so to speak, the place where you were once so sure that there were answers to be found. We're going to find something, all right. And if we come back, we'll be changed.''

''If,'' Darcy repeated, and the word was very soft.

''You remember the hospital, when we went to see Erik?'' he asked her.

She nodded, the ghost of a movement.

''And the two people sleeping upstairs?''

Again, a nod, sharper than before.

''I know that there's a chance we won't wake up,'' she admitted. ''That we might get lost.''

He grabbed her by the wrist, running his thumb along the thin-skinned place where her pulse beat.''We don't _have_ to do this. It isn't set in stone anywhere, it's our choice.''

''But do we have another?''

''We could be cowards,'' he replied. ''We could run and hide, hop from world to world as they tumble slowly, as the darkness closes in and swallows them one at a time, as the roots of Yggdrasil become poisoned, as they choke and die. We could, you know, perhaps, outrun them for a little while. But everyone you know and love, eventually, they will succumb. Even everyone who has managed to resist transformation, eventually they will give up. They will allow themselves to be transformed. At that point, they might even welcome it. That is not something that I want you to see. I don't...I don't want us to stand on a hill and watch every light slowly go out until...'' he trailed off. This was the realest that Darcy had ever seen him, and he was so beautiful and sad, that look felt like fingers clutching at her throat, squeezing. ''No, we don't have another choice.''

She leaned over and rested her forehead against his, then took his hand, their fingers lacing together. It was very quiet.

* * *

><p>It was just as they were getting ready to leave that Darcy had a very unexpected visitor. She appeared very softly and slowly, as threads gathering in the air, sewing together the thin outline of a familiar person. They continued this way until she was as fully formed as she would ever be again. Helen simply stood there for a moment, the light shining through her. Darcy wasn't sure if she was happy to see her again or not. There were a thousand questions that she wanted to ask, burning at the edge of her tongue, but all that she could say was,<p>

''You're a long way from home. Why do all the ghosts come to me?''

A smile fluttered over Helen's face. ''Because you've always been such a very good listener. And we all have a story to tell. It's ever so hard to find people who will truly listen, and even rarer to find those who will understand.'' Then the smile fell away. ''You've both been gone so long. Time doesn't move the same for us, but we can still feel it. We can probably feel it more than you can. I've had lots of time to think. Sometimes, I remember things. Or at least, I think that I do. I remember that old, enormous house in England, the floorboards creaking under my feet. That miserable grove of trees out in the yard, watching.'' She shook her head. ''Sometimes it seems more like a dream than a memory. But sometimes it can be hard to tell the difference between the two.''

''I do miss the both of you, the way that you would look at each other, all those pictures that you left behind. True love is rarely beautiful,'' Helen added suddenly, with a collapsing sadness crossing her features, making her look too young and too old all at once. ''It gets in deep, into the bones, the marrow of the self. It _changes _you. You understand that.''

Darcy almost told her everything then. All these secrets inside wanted out, she wanted to tell Helen just how deeply entrenched in the dark arts her father was, how he was going to offer her soul to the Reckoner, how Ethan had loved her so much that he had been willing to commit murder, how he was now just as alone as she, drifting wearily through time, unable to look at the sun. But she found that she couldn't. It wasn't her place, wasn't her story to tell. ''I understand,'' she said.

* * *

><p>If...that nagging, dreadful word.<p>

_If_ we never come back. _If_ we fall asleep forever.

There was a lot that Loki was going to miss. He would have barely gotten the chance to be a father, and this left him feeling cheated. The irony of that was not lost on him. He wouldn't be there for Avi's first word, her first steps. Wouldn't be picking her up when she fell down or praising her when she got a good grade. He wouldn't...damn, what else did fathers typically do? He searched through his mind for all the television that he'd seen as a reference point. Oh yes, he'd never get to be threatening towards whomever wanted to date her when she got older-and he was looking forward to that. Wouldn't get to dance with her at her wedding. That was important, apparently. He sighed. Arbitrary traditions. _Sentiment_. He never thought he'd fall prey to such things and yet, here he was.

If...such an awful word. So heavy. A coin spinning in the air, uncertain how to fall.

He pulled out the device that Darcy had given to him, an iPod, and flipped through the selections until he found a song that seemed right, pretty and sufficiently melancholy. Loki reached down and picked Avi up, cradling her close, rocking her back and forth in time with the music, allowing himself to be sentimental for just a few minutes.

Helen had disappeared again, fading into the ether the way that spirits did. Darcy couldn't help but pray that someday, by some miracle, she and Ethan might find each other, get to know the truth at last. Maybe then...maybe then they could finally let go of this plane of existence, could be at rest. Now she was heading down the hallway when she heard a familiar song playing-''Where Did My Baby Go?'' by John Legend. Curious, she moved closer, following the sound, and looked around the door to see Loki and their daughter. She was cuddled against him as he danced with her, the movements light and graceful. His face held a peaceful sadness that gave Darcy pause, struck her to the spot and made her watch quietly until the music faded away and the dance ended. Then he looked up and met her eyes, which were now shining with tears. ''Time to go,'' he said.

* * *

><p><strong>Cambridge University, England<strong>

**24 Hours Later**

''Man, I think this is a terrible idea,'' Prudence said, shaking her head as she stared at the two capsule-like tanks in front of her. Her face was nearly grey with nervousness as she helped Banner make the necessary preparations. ''They might wind up turning into apes or regressing to blobs of primordial ooze, like in that movie _Altered States. _''

''Nothing about that movie is accurate,'' Bruce assured her.

''How can they have the same dream?'' she asked, still not quite able to wrap her mind around what was going to happen.

''Well, it's apparently not a dream, remember? And from what I understand about these two, which is admittedly very little, their minds are connected. Linked up and synchronized in some bizarre and unnatural way.''

''Like Andrews,'' supplied Prudence. ''Like everyone who transformed.''

''Eh..in a sense. Not...well, Pru, just...here, plug in that laptop, would you, the battery's dying...yeah, I don't know,'' Bruce admitted. He looked upset, she noticed. ''Sometimes,'' he began slowly, not quite looking at her, ''something bigger gets a hold of us and changes us, for good or for bad. In their case, it's good, or it seems to be. Their...relationship isn't parasitic, it's balanced. He doesn't possess her any more than she possesses him, they just sort of...exist together in this weird symbiosis that I don't quite care to understand. It freaks me out sometimes, to be honest with you,'' he admitted. ''I met Darcy when she was just the girl who did data entry for Jane Foster. I don't think anyone ever really gave her a second glance, until Loki. It was this...odd, impossible love at first sight thing, nobody understood it. But nobody really needed to, except for them. Chaos follows those two like you would not believe.''

''Maybe Plato was right,'' the young woman offered thoughtfully.

''Why?'' Banner asked. ''Right about what?''

''That in the beginning, there were these...beings, creatures, whatever you wanted to call them. They were like...stuck together, and were super-powerful because of it. The gods felt threatened by them, so they ripped them apart, and sent them to different ends of the earth, so that they would hopefully never find each other. Maybe Loki and Darcy were like that, but they _did _manage to find each other, against all odds, and everything got thrown off because of it. Like you said, chaos follows them. Maybe the universe just isn't ready for...whatever they are.''

**London**

While Pru and Bruce went on ahead to Cambridge to set up all of the equipment, Darcy and Loki went to the old bookstore where she had originally found the book which had led her to the Walters Estate. She wasn't entirely certain why she felt such a strong pull to that area, but after her visit from Helen, it had been steadily growing in intensity, and she wanted to know why. This feeling indicated that there was something she needed to find. There was nothing that they could do right away anyhow, Bruce was emphatic that they have proper scientific monitoring for this endeavour, and they had agreed, so they were waiting for the all-clear from him. However, when they arrived in Berkeley Square, it was dark, like many of the other buildings that they passed. A sign on the door announced that it would be closed until further notice. She held Loki's hand and they walked together, beneath the grey sky. The tree branches swayed and creaked in the breeze.

Darcy noticed a familiar sign, recognized the place where they had drinks after their initial visit to the Walter's Estate. The pub was different now, like everything else, dimmer and sadder. Yet it was open, and they walked inside. ''It's you,'' the barkeeper said with surprise upon seeing them. He was a few feet from the door, a ring of keys clutched in his hand. He glanced around shiftingly. ''Alright, come in,'' he ushered them inside and then locked the door behind them. ''I was just about to close for the day. It isn't safe anymore. I've never seen anything like this. Some kind of biological weapon, they say, but won't tell us anything else.'' His large hands clenched into frightened fists. Then he sighed. ''But where are my manners. Come have a seat. Drinks on the house, today.'' She saw the same old man in the wheelchair. He was parked by the window, a strange and wistful expression on his face. As the barkeeper set to pouring their drinks, she walked over to him.

''I know I've told you this before, but you are exquisite. You have an...agelessness about you that's so beautiful. You're like an old story,'' he added with a wan smile. ''One of those lovely, tragic ones.''

''Why does it always have to be tragic?''

''Because, my girl,'' he took another long sip of his drink with slightly shaking hands. ''Those are the ones that get remembered. And that's what matters, innit? Being remembered?'' He seemed to be thinking about something for a moment, and then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a very old, yellowed envelope. ''I think that this is for you,'' he said, handing it over to Darcy. It trembled and fluttered like a leaf in his unsteady grip. It was a letter, she realized, one that had never been delivered.

''I was supposed to send it, long ago, on behalf of a friend. First, I was supposed to send a letter and a box, and that part I did. But then I was supposed to send this second letter and...I failed him, I'm afraid. I failed at a lot of things back then. The war, the war was hell on my mind, and I'd become a little...too fond of the bottle. I'd all but forgotten that time of my life, or I'd simply forced it away. And then when I saw you and heard you mention Lugh Retnick, it all came back to me. I've never told anyone about this letter, not even my son. But I knew. I knew that one day it would all return to haunt me. Take it.'' Darcy accepted it from his shaking hand. The envelope was addressed to a Miss Helen Walters, in Paris. With cold fingertips, she gently opened it and pulled out a piece of paper.

_''My dearest Helen,''_ it read. _''I can only hope that this letter finds you safe and well. It is with deep regret that I am writing to inform you that Joe Haven has been killed in an unfortunate accident. I am afraid that at this time I cannot reveal to you any additional details. My heart aches for the loss you must be feeling. I must apologize in advance for the forwardness and perhaps ill-timing of what I am about to say to you next, but I do not think that I will have the chance again for I will soon be leaving and may not ever have the opportunity to look into your eyes as I wish I could do as I say this. Helen, you are a remarkable, beautiful woman. Perhaps in another life you would look at me with all the affection and love that I feel for you. Perhaps we would have had a chance at happiness. But that is not this life, this world in which we have found ourselves. I can only hope that one day, we will meet in a new place. Yet if that day never comes, only know that you were loved more than you could possibly imagine.''_

The letter wasn't signed. There was only a dried and ancient flower pressed there, long forgotten between the folds of paper like a coffin. It was a marigold.


	34. Chapter 34

**Hi everyone! So, so sorry about the very large gap in updates. It's good to be back! Here is the next chapter, please let me know what you think! Oh, and if you're up for an intense read, try the _Bardo Thodol, _The Tibetan Book of the Dead. It was actually really inspiring for parts of this chapter. I love all of you, so much more than you ****know, thank you for sticking with me!**

* * *

><p><em>A little bit of knowledge will destroy you...<em>

_A little bit of knowledge will destroy you..._

_I don't know why I feel so tongue-tied_

_I don't know why I feel so skinned alive_

**-Radiohead**

Darcy's head spun. Her feet felt heavy, and apprehension clustered around her heart like weeds. The folded, unsent letter that Ethan had written to Helen was still tucked inside her jacket pocket when she and Loki arrived at Cambridge and made their way down a staircase and along a corridor. She tried to put it out of her mind for the time being. In fact, she hadn't yet even mentioned it to Loki. Why, she wasn't sure. As always, something about the story was all so desperately sad that she wanted to keep it to herself. Darcy forced her jumpy mind to concentrate on the task ahead of them as they finally arrived at a large laboratory with an antechamber that served as an observation station. Loki followed along beside her, quietly. At the pub, he had seen her talking to the old man in the wheelchair, saw her slip the piece of paper into her pocket, wondered what she wasn't telling him. Something had saddened her eyes, added more heaviness to her gaze. He suspected that it had something to do with the past, which seemed to speak to Darcy more so than to him. All the ghosts came to visit her. _She listens_, that was what the Well had told him. Listening could sometimes be a dangerous thing. He hated that she had to carry the weight of all that.

The main room of the lab was sparse, with walls painted a grey-blue color that might, on another day, have been calming, but today only seemed morose. Two large, almost oval shaped, pod-like chambers stood side by side in the middle, waiting.

''There's a saltwater solution inside of the tanks so that you can float,'' Bruce explained, after greeting them. ''Normally the water is set to the temperature of human skin, but we lowered it in one of them, considering that your body temperature is...less than average, Loki.''

''That was very considerate,'' said Darcy. She poked Loki in the side sharply when he didn't say anything. ''Yes, thank you,'' he said finally.

''Alright, well,'' Bruce stared at the both of them, then at the tanks, and sighed. ''Let's get going.''

You could lay in the water naked, but they wore specially made bodysuits of a thin material. As Darcy and Loki changed into them and stashed their clothes in a locker, she got the distinct suspicion that these were not your grandmother's isolation chambers, the whole setup was less break-on-through and more MKULTRA mind experiment. She and Loki said very little. They both seemed to be conserving all of their strength. Once they were suited up and ready, Bruce and Prudence glued small, sticky electrodes to their foreheads. ''This isn't very relaxing,'' Darcy joked. ''I thought I asked for the spa package.''

''You won't even notice them after they're on,'' the scientist assured her.

Darcy climbed into the tank very slowly. There were also monitoring devices inside of their bodysuits which measured vital signs, while the ones on their foreheads measured brain activity. ''It's very state of the art,'' Bruce explained as he hooked them up, made sure that everything was in proper working order. ''Dr. Fortingall has been doing some very promising research with Schizophrenics and even Alzheimer's patients. He designed these tanks to be almost intelligent, they provide neurological data unlike anything we've seen before, giving the field some incredible insights. The imaging software we'll be using is second to none.'' Darcy winced just a little at the mention of Schizophrenia, the illness that had brought about her mother's untimely death, but nobody noticed except Loki, who found himself wondering exactly how much of this was Bruce wanting them to be in a safe and controlled environment and how much was the scientist in him looking for a rare opportunity to gather some interesting data. But he supposed at the moment it didn't really make much of a difference. Trying to clear his mind as much as possible, the god stepped into the adjoining tank.

With a little help from Prudence, Darcy had gotten herself situated and relatively comfortable, amazed at how utterly buoyant she was, thanks to the salt solution. Now she lay in the water, floating, staring up at the ceiling. To calm her pounding, restless heart she counted the tiles there until Bruce's face appeared above her. ''They're equipped with an intercom, I'll be able to hear you if you need me.'' He smiled faintly. ''Good luck.'' Then the lid began to close over her. Darcy fought back a wave of claustrophobia, concentrated on breathing as the light disappeared and she found herself completely entombed in a silent darkness.

Though she and Loki were in two separate tanks, that didn't matter. They could still speak to each other. As she floated in the water and tried to get her bearings, it struck her that she didn't like the silence. Or the dark. She closed her eyes, not that it would matter much.

'_'Are you alright?_'' he asked her, and Darcy sighed in relief, grateful for the sound of his voice in her head. It steadied her like the north star, as she drifted in the blackness.

* * *

><p>''How long are they going to be in there?'' Prudence asked Banner rather nervously, eyes darting from the monitors to the glass viewing partition that they were now on the other side of.<p>

Bruce shrugged and tapped at the keypad in front of him. ''I have no way of knowing. As long as it takes.''

She wrung her hands a little. ''Don't people usually start hallucinating after like fifteen minutes in these things?''

''Hallucinations would be tame compared to what they're going to experience, I think.'' He sighed. ''Alright, here we go. We are online.'' He stared at the imaging software on the various screens in front of him. Some fed back direct video feed from inside of the tanks, glowing with a green night-vision, others showed what looked like PET maps of Loki and Darcy's brain activity.

''These tanks really _are_ smart. They must cost a friggin' fortune. I'm amazed he let you use them,'' Prudence told Bruce.

''_Millions _of dollars, Pru, for those two tanks and this lab. You've gotta love wealthy donors. Being a scientist requires a remarkable amount of schmoozing and kissing up to rich folk. But Jonny Fortingall and I go way back,'' Bruce added as he tapped a few more keys. ''He trusts me. Plus, what has he got to lose at this point? It's not like he could pack them up and take them with him to Spain, technically they're University property. They might as well get some use.''

Holy shit,'' said Prudence, pointing. Her hand shook slightly. ''Holy shit, what just happened?'' The brain imaging scans on the screen had suddenly flared, glowing like Las Vegas.

''I've never seen brain activity like this before...they're...they're _talking_ to each other. This is what telepathy looks like.'' Banner coughed out a small, disbelieving laugh.

''It's...colorful,'' she noted breathlessly.

''You can say that again.''

* * *

><p>Eyes closed, eyes open made no difference but Darcy allowed hers to close, breathed deeply.<p>

''_Are you ready?_'' Loki asked her.

'_'I think so_,'' she replied.

'_'Just breathe and let yourself drift. Focus on that place you know from your dreams, that world. It's waiting. Let it pull you in, but stay aware. Keep your footing._''

''_Ok_.''

Slip and fade, slip and fade, on and off, blinking. That strange peeling, popping, pulling-away. Always such a bizarre feeling. The darkness now began to change, to become something else as she found herself standing upright, her eyes adjusting. Before her was a hallway, bathed in a faint light. Now Loki stood beside her, trying to get his bearings as well, it seemed. Slow, foggy. Moving was always strange at first.

Darcy put one foot in front of the other; it was different than walking in her actual body. Everything was more elastic-feeling, more malleable. She soon forgot about the tanks, about her body, about Bruce and Prudence. Everything else began to seem far away very quickly. There was just Loki now, and this strange hallway stretching out ahead of them, leading up to a door, the thing that was waiting at the end.

Wind came rushing from some unknown source, playing softly around her ears. Long-lost memories tickled at her face like fingertips or stray strands of hair. All calling from somewhere, from every dream she'd ever had.

''We're so far gone already,'' Loki thought to himself, astonished at the abrupt dreaminess, the shift in consciousness that was making it harder for them to steady themselves. It was like being pummelled by sudden heavy sedation. None of the other journeys that he had taken had been so easily disorienting. And the closer they moved towards that light up ahead, the harder it was going to be, he knew. They needed to be extra cautious, or they would be lost before they'd even begun. He should have expected as much. They were attempting to journey to a place that most only ever skirted the edges of. It wasn't going to be easy.

The Door at the end of the hall continued to urge them forward. This wasn't just a dream, even a lucid one. It felt too solid. Otherworldly, but solid. They continued to move. Felt like wandering through a foggy memory. There were rooms along the corridor, and as they passed, they caught glimpses of the interiors. Inside one was a rocking chair and books and furniture, other old things waiting in what seemed to be late afternoon sunlight. The look and smell of it all was faintly familiar. Darcy remembered it from somewhere, she knew, but couldn't tell whether that place was real or not. It could have been that it was always here, always just one of her dreams. She was staring too long, she realised, and forced herself to move again.

Loki's dreams had always been different than Darcy's: sharper, lots of fire and ice and jagged edges, shards of cracked mirror. A deep and fearful sadness ran through everything. He quickly passed by any rooms that contained a reminder. The Door still beckoned, up ahead, and it made Loki very wary. This in-between place, this Hallway, had a certain psychedelic awfulness to it, but if nothing else it was at least comfortable in its familiarity. Up ahead were the unknown edges, some new madness. The shadows and echoes here were at least ones with which they were vaguely acquainted. He and Darcy both found themselves wanting to linger in the Hallway just a little longer. They hesitated, but seemed to be moving regardless, prompted forward by something unseen. Beneath their feet, the shifting floor changed yet again and became ground, grass and dirt and rocks. The door was creeping closer, until they were pushed right over the threshold without a chance to protest.

It was dizzyingly bright, for a moment, but then dark. Not too dark to see, though. Eyes forced themselves to adjust. Her hand clutched at his. Darcy still felt funny, too light, like she might simply float away into the ether. She struggled for a centre. They were outside, now, on the other side of the door. It was late evening, a gloaming time, the hour of the day that always made her uneasy, felt like cool phantom fingertips pressing on the back of her neck. A shiver ran along her spine as if someone had pretended to crack an egg on her head. Loki felt her shiver, squeezed her hand more tightly.

It was getting harder to think constructively, Darcy noticed, there was a heavy, soupy fog clustering around her brain, deceptively peaceful. ''Where now?'' she asked him. ''I don't know,'' he answered, hating the sudden swarming feeling of impotence. He liked to always be master of his environment, and the knowledge that this place was three steps ahead of him was disconcerting. Now they could speak normally, it seemed, telepathy wasn't necessary. Loki scanned his head from side to side as he took in their surroundings. The landscape looked appallingly similar in either direction as far as he could see. Forests, clusters of trees, muddy variants of dark green and brown, blending and weaving themselves into the darkening grey-blue ash and navy of the sky, which was tinged with only the faintest sliver of pale dying sunlight around the edges.

''Something about it is definitely familiar,'' Darcy said, recognising it instantly as a place that she had seen many times before, but always while asleep. ''Let's keep walking. Let's follow the water,'' she added, pointing to a small, murmuring stream that trickled past, a few feet away from them. They followed it along a few more paces. Turning around, Darcy saw that the door they had come through had vanished completely. A sigh tried to creep out of her chest and she felt a few brief tingles of panic, but then they dulled, were swallowed up into the sky and the trees. Her head was getting quiet. Too quiet. The emptiness rattled. Visions of places were blinking on and off and she couldn't remember if they were places that she had been or only imagined being, it seemed not to matter anymore. The water was getting wider, running with more urgency now as it carved its way along the ground.

Darcy started to hum, not knowing why. Some old, lost song. ''Look,'' she said, pointing up ahead. The trees had parted and the woods beckoned them forward. ''Well,'' she said, looking at him with a shrug. ''We have no other choice it seems.''

''This isn't a normal forest,'' she told him as they entered, the trees clustering overhead, densely. ''Everything is so different, so old.''

''There's something here,'' he answered her in a soft, tense voice, right by her ear. He could have spoken into her mind, but felt that talking out loud was somehow more comforting. He could hear Them, a multitude of presences, moving and watching and rustling. Along the ground, behind the trees. He thought that he saw a flash of something like a bright yellow eye, which then retreated.

A whisper trembled the leaves on the branches. ''_There is no waking from this._''

''Did you hear that?'' Darcy asked, clutching his arm, her heart squirming in her throat. Loki nodded. ''Just ignore them, keep walking''. Laughter, then. Eerie bubbles of laughter.

Then, something changed very abruptly. Pins and needles, almost painful, a heaviness all around her that hadn't been there a moment ago. She looked down. Something...wasn't right. She wasn't in her spirit body. She was in her _actual_ body. And so was Loki. Solidity was startling, disorienting, made them both feel off balance for a moment. ''What? How?'' Darcy pinched her own arm furiously, feeling the tell-tale sting of pain indicating physicality, then looked at him. ''What does this mean? Is this real?''

''It seems so,'' he replied tightly as he realised the implications of this:

''We don't have an anchor out in the world anymore. If we're going to get out of here, we can't go that way.''

Darcy's face twisted up as she tried to fight back a cold wave of fear that had begun to rise in her stomach.''Then where the hell are we supposed to go?!''

''Forward,'' he said, grim and yet resigned. ''We still have a job to do.''

* * *

><p>''Wait...wait, what the hell is going on?!'' Bruce Banner's voice was frantic and agitated as he stared disbelievingly at the screen. It seemed that a sudden power surge had gone through all of their electronics, leaving them scrambled for a brief moment as they lost connection with the tanks. Then slowly the equipment flickered back to life, but there were no vital signs being registered, no brain imagery.<p>

''This is impossible,'' Prudence whispered, shaking a little as they realised what was going on. The tanks were empty.

''Six impossible things before breakfast, every fucking day with these two,'' Bruce grumbled darkly, trying to hide his flaring panic. ''Can we pull up video feed from right before?''

Pru frowned deeply as she stared at the screen, her face bathed in strange electrical glow. ''It crackles and then breaks off, goes dead. There was sound just before the surge, but it's garbled.''

''Try to make it out.''

''I'll need to work on it, clean it up a little.'' She looked warily over at Bruce. ''Where did they _go_?''

* * *

><p>It was day. There was no sun, but the sky was a bright grey-white, brushed with pink and purple. ''I'm getting so tired,'' Darcy said, sinking down and pausing to rest among the leaves and twigs. The day pressed heavily on her head. ''I just want to close my eyes.''<p>

''_Don't,_'' Loki spoke far more harshly than he meant to. He was panicking against his will, and he wouldn't stand for that. ''You have to stay awake! Stay grounded. Remember why we're here, what we're looking for.''

''We don't even know what we're looking for,'' Darcy spoke in a sleepy voice as her eyelids began to droop and flutter, as she began to drift. ''Remember? You told me...There are no answers to be found, not one. And nobody to ask. Just...lonely people. Lonely earth, lonely sky.''

He shook her. Gripped her by the shoulders as hard as he could without hurting her. Loki needed to mentally slap her into awareness, or he would be lost too, she would pull him down like a stone. He projected into her mind bright thoughts of New York, of Jane and Tony and all of their friends, and of Avi. This made an impression. With some difficulty, Darcy forced her eyelids to open, seemed to regain a bit of strength and awareness. She needed to hold on, she'd almost slipped away. It had been so much more easy that she'd suspected. It was insidious, whatever magic was at work here, deceptively peaceful. Like a lullabye.

They moved a few more paces together and then they saw it, in a small clearing that had appeared.

Up ahead in front of them, loomed a great tree. It was staggering in height and circumference. And it was very much aware. In fact, it was staring right at them, out of the huge eye that lurked glowingly in its centre. ''There's always a tree in the beginning, isn't there?'' Darcy whispered faintly.

* * *

><p><strong>The Walter's Estate, England<strong>

While Prudence and Bruce struggled wildly to make sense of the new developments, The Black Widow stealthily made her way inside the Walter's Estate. It wasn't nearly as difficult as she'd expected, she'd simply slipped in through an old servant's entrance in the back that was left unlocked. It seemed like there were many listening, watching presences in the house, though it was only she and Evelyn Primrose. The assassin could feel many sets of eyes on her. The structure was almost alive, she realized. One other thing that seemed off was that there were vines growing _inside_ the walls of the house, climbing and strangling them. The floor was broken in places and what looked like...trees were forcing their way up through, dark gnarled branches like skeletal hands. It was amazing how easily the elegant mansion had fallen into otherworldly decay.

Natasha moved quietly down the hallway. She heard a sound now, vague music. It was coming from a door just a few feet away. Pushing it open slightly, she peeked in. The room was mostly empty, looked like it had been closed off for some time. A lonely white curtain fluttered by the window. By one wall sat an instrument that looked like a strange, small piano. Natasha recognized it as an Ondes Martenot, she had seen one before. They made a decidedly odd and eerie sound. Much like the sound this one was making now. There was nobody in the room, but a few of the keys were moving up and down of their own accord, sending a disquieting melody climbing along the walls and floor. She took this as her cue to move on. Something definitely knew that she was here.

She deftly made her way up a staircase and towards a long hallway. At the end of the hall was the Library of the Damned. The doorway seemed taller and wider than any other in the house, like a giant open mouth. Natasha stepped inside. The air smelled horrible, stale and coppery. Books rested on shelves all along the walls, with dark bindings. Bottles containing...bones and dust and unsettling looking liquids sat inside a small cabinet. Several taxidermied birds with sharp talons and beady dead eyes watched her from their perch on the wall. Then she saw it, up ahead on the floor. A circle, humming with energy, waiting, spiralling softly in a counterclockwise motion. The Black Widow stood very still as she detected the sound of footsteps behind her. She ducked just as Evelyn Primrose swung a heavy fireplace poker at her head. She hit the floor and rolled slightly, swinging out her leg and kicking Evelyn's legs out from under her. The thin woman fell to the ground and then struggled back up, eyes blazing wildly. She looked utterly crazed, Natasha noticed, almost possessed as she lunged again. Natasha managed to grab the metal implement as Evelyn tried to bring it down again, knocking her back. The thin woman gritted her teeth and then looked over toward the circle, which began to churn faster. She called out something in a language that the Black Widow didn't understand, and the churning rose to a fever pitch, until it was almost a howl, until a smoky, crackling mist began to form along the floor.

The energy continued to scream and rush and build. ''I shouldn't waste my strength,'' Evelyn said with a nasty smile as she regarded Natasha. ''I should just let them finish you. More are coming, and then you will fight no longer. You will know their greatness, and welcome them. Everybody wants something.''

_Everybody wants something. _Suddenly, as if though some flash of divine insight, Natasha knew exactly what to do. As she and Evelyn faced each other, the redhead said, ''I'm sure that Stanwell is so proud of everything that you've done.''

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. ''I know he is!'' she exclaimed shrilly. ''I've served him well!''

''Enough for him to _finally_ love you?'' Natasha asked. She had merely been playing on a strong hunch, but once again, it hadn't proved her wrong. The question hit its intended nerve and now the other woman's eyes blinked furiously. ''How long have you served him? A hundred years, if not longer? That's a long time, Evelyn. And you were always loyal, always doing exactly as he asked, isn't that right?'' In response, Evelyn now swung the poker out again, but her movements were growing unsteady. ''Because you loved him,'' Natasha continued. ''And you_ wanted_ so badly for him to love you that you would do anything in the hopes that some day, there just might be a chance.''

''He will!'' she shrieked, her face dissolving into a freakish mask. ''I know he will, once he sees how faithful I have been, once he sees what I have done...'' The swirling mass behind her rose up, collected itself into a shape, a man, recognizable from old photographs, but altered; a macabre twisted reflection of itself, the darkness within finally revealed in plain sight. ''I think he sees exactly what you've done,'' said Natasha. Evelyn turned and let out a choked gasp at the sight of Stanwell Walters. The fireplace poker fell from her hands and clattered to the floor. She fell to her knees. ''My Master,'' she begged.

Stanwell smiled and reached out one of his hands, pale eerie fingers and long jagged nails. He ran them along Evelyn's face, gently, then slipped lower. She let out a shriek as he thrust his spectral hand inside of her chest. Her body shook, her eyes lighting up. She looked like she was imploding. Natasha turned and ran, but looked back long enough to watch as Stanwell dragged Evelyn Primrose's body into the circle with him. ''Love is for for children,'' she whispered.

* * *

><p>The whole place pulsed and shimmered and fluttered. This Tree was the conductor, at the centre of it all. The Eye remained open, unblinking. ''Another sacrifice,'' Loki thought suddenly. Before, when they had found the reversal spell, it had said that it was to be performed on sacred ground, and that a sacrifice was needed. There was no indication of what might be asked of them, but he dreaded to know. Though they were not performing that exact spell, they were attempting to achieve the same end. Nothing ever came without a price and he knew, in that moment, that one would need to be paid.<p>

''There it is,'' Darcy said, suddenly. Her eyes were even farther away, if possible. ''I can see the letters, all flowing together.'' It was like source code for a web page, glowing brightly within the trunk of the Tree. She could see the building blocks of the Palace of Souls, the mechanism for the trapping, the ensnaring, the bodysnatching. She could see the broken, twisted codes that the Reckoner had plugged in to build his dark empire, glowing garishly, she just had to erase them. But how?

_In the beginning..._

_In the beginning there_

Urd's dreadful voice sliced through her mind, a sharp whisper climbing out of the past.

''..._There was no dawn. There was only the Void. And the __**sounds**_.''

''_Dreaming is our oldest function_,'' Loki had once told her. ''_What's the second oldest_?'' she had asked. ''_Singing_,'' the answer had been.

She found it, found the sound that wove through everything, the underlying current, jagged and disjointed, repeating over and over, gathering and growing, creating. The dreaming created the Wyrd and the song created the dreaming.

The Tree began to speak, then. ''_Do you dare to see? Many come seeking. Few find. This is not a way that has been oft traveled_.'' The Eye continued to stare into both of them. '_'The gate will be closed forever. There will be no waking from this. Once you begin, it will not end. You shall be Eternal Dreamers._''

Darcy stalwartly ignored the warning, though her body shook with it as an indescribable fear worried her bones, made them shake inside her too-solid body. There was nothing else left to do.

''I need a drum,'' she said suddenly to Loki, bolstered by a sudden strength, as she turned away and refused to look at the Eye.

''Where do you propose to get one?'' he said, gesturing around.

''It doesn't have to be perfect, I just need something to make a rhythm with.'' He picked up two large stones and handed them to her. They were smooth, worn down by the flowing water. ''Here, knock these together.''

She stared crookedly at him. ''I'm not trying to start a fire.''

''Darling, we have to use the tools available to us,'' he explained gently but tiredly. ''This is probably what...cave people used before they had anything else.''

''Listen closely. Hear it?'' Darcy asked. The sound was climbing over her spine, singing through her bones.

''Yes. It's low. It's...distorted, crackling.'' It was, a frightening, ghostly melody with no discernible time signature. The Reckoner's song, flowing out of the dreaming and into the world, feeding the horror.

''Everyone who has ever dreamed has been here, at least partway...that water, it carries the dreams upward, funnels them right here,'' Loki said. ''Dreams contain our truths, sometimes, our greatest fears and desires, that we hide even from ourselves. The formula caught them, wove them into the song.''

''We're going to overwrite it,'' she said firmly, a dark resolve on her face that he'd only ever seen once before, when they were walking to their supposed death, to destroy the Norns. ''We're going to change the song.''

_Clack-clack-clack_ went the stones in her hands. The very air seemed to hesitate, pause. It resisted, then, grew thick, reacting with a hiss to the intrusion. Darcy pushed harder. _Clack-clack-clack-clack_. Remembering when Frigga had instructed her to sing as Loki journeyed into the past, she began another song, a song from her gut. It rolled up from the center of her being, sounds spilling out of her mouth, building in strength as they flooded around. Now he sat beside her and joined in the song, his voice rising up and melding with hers. At first it was his own unique melody but eventually they met, wove themselves together seamlessly and grew stronger with their joining. The other song, the dark song, pushed back. Like a gust of cold wind. Lonely, bone rattling, and hopeless. Everything was listening now. The Eye in the tree was watching in wait. This was a song of life. Of love. Of resurrection and freedom. _Clack-clack-clack_, Darcy beat the fear into submission, even while tears began to stream down her face. A heavy wind kicked up.

* * *

><p>Inside the Palace of Souls, the walls began to shake as cracks formed down the center of the foundation. Lethe, who now looked old, simply slid to the floor, holding her head and crying. ''Make it stop,'' she pleaded. ''Make it stop!'' Dr. Ereshkigal raised her head and stared at the crumbling walls. ''It's all over,'' she whispered. Master had abandoned them. The reactor was overloading now, and they were helpless to stop it. Within a few minutes, the entire Palace was going to be obliterated.<p>

All of the patients had frozen as if in wait, gone utterly still and silent but one. Seated on one of the uncomfortable green chairs, Cloud laughed with delight as she looked down at the book in her hand, the pages covered in words again. Turning one, she saw that it simply said, in large letters, **RUN**. Her eyes set on the door at the end of the hall, the door to Room 3, which was now hanging wide open, bright light spilling out from inside. She set the book down, and ran.

* * *

><p><strong>The Walters Estate<strong>

The song on the Ondes Martenot had slowed, then stopped. The keys did not move for one moment, and then they started up again. The song was...different, Natasha realized, palpably different. It was like oxygen, like a calm day. Like pleasant memories. Some good magic was alive and well in the world, it seemed. And for once, she truly felt as though she was a part of it. Now the whole mansion was cracking, crumbling, being shaken apart with the force of this new song. The assassin ran so fast that once she got out into the yard she had to pause a moment to catch her breath. Everything almost tilted for a moment, as if the axis of the earth was shifting. Then she saw it, the trapdoor hidden in the earth by the large tree at the entrance to the grove. It was unlatched, she saw, the lock had simply broken. She moved closer and pulled it open. A long descending staircase was revealed. Taking a deep breath, she took a step.


	35. Chapter 35

**Hey guys! We are almost at the end of the story now, only about two chapters to go after this one! Thanks for sticking with me!**

* * *

><p><em>Eurydice, dying now a second time, offered no complaint against her husband. What was there to complain of, but that she had been loved?<em>

**-Ovid, _Metamorphoses_**

As the wind continued to kick up around them, the two songs warred. Loki could almost see them, like streams of energy colliding and diving at each other as they sparred for dominance. '_There is no way that you can win_,' a dark chuckle rippled through the air, perhaps some echo of the Reckoner's voice, his residual energy that still cloaked this place, though he was locked in a magical cell in Asgard, far away. There was something wrong; Loki sensed a weakness in the spell that they were trying to weave, he could hear it lingering on the edges of their song, like crackling static. There was a dark thread of trepidation threatening their success.

The god knew suddenly what was holding them back, creating this discord. It was fear, fear in both of their hearts, though they tried to deny it. The song had begun, but it wasn't ready to be finished yet. He quieted, stopped singing, then reached over and halted the motion of Darcy's hands banging the stones together. Curiously, she slowed, then stopped, allowing her own singing to die away. The air stilled for a moment, waiting. ''What?'' she asked, looking at him. ''Why did you stop me?''

''The song...it has a strong beginning but it's still too weak to be completed for its full purpose,'' Loki explained. ''We're not ready to do that yet.''

Darcy looked upset by this, narrowed her eyes, though she set the stones down on the ground. ''What do you mean?''

''I mean, we have a very great duty here, and a very personal one. We are taking over as creators, in a sense, and there's a heavy burden in that. Our emotions, the deepest parts of ourselves are being woven into this song, helping to form everything. If we falter, if we let any fear or sorrow or resentment creep into the weaving...then we've essentially done no better than the Reckoner, do you see?'' He gave her a sad, tired smile. ''Stop for now. There will be time to finish.''

What he hesitated to tell her was there would be eternity to finish. They weren't going anywhere.

Loki stood up and reached out his hand, helping Darcy to her feet. The world surrounding them looked mildly different now, Darcy noticed as she looked around, there was more color in the sky, the trees were not so gnarled and dark. Their alterations, even if unfinished, _had_ begun to make an impact. Life was slowly finding its way back to the place that had been so long twisted and bent to an evil purpose. They could hear still the song they had started, could feel it like a palpable energy, flowing quietly throughout the dreaming, being carried by the river out into the Nine Worlds.

''_But...but I want to finish_,'' she thought obstinately, though she knew Loki was right. She _wasn't_ ready. Her mind was still a worried jumble of knots. They couldn't risk poisoning everything again just because she was scared and angry. Darcy sighed, trying not to panic at the feeling of being trapped in the Dreaming. She _had_ been rushing, because she'd held out a fitful hope that once they finished the song there would be another great deus ex machina for them, another blinding, burning flash of light, a nothingness, and then she would wake beside Loki with Bruce Banner looking down at her with concern, the way it always seemed to happen. This time, though...

''Well,'' her lip trembled a little and she forced it to stop, ''what do we do in the meantime?''

''Let's take more of a look around, clear our heads a bit.'' Loki suggested.

''Alright,'' she agreed, not seeing much in the way of an alternative for the time being. The sky above them had brightened some, lost a bit of its cold blankness, though there was still no visible sun. It was a shining white-grey colour, like a wintry day. They walked along slowly, following that running stream down a gently sloping embankment, where it ran down to join a larger body of water. It seemed to be a lake, stretching out before them, deep and wide. Light shimmered across the top of the water. Darcy tried to look across to the other side, but a thick veil of mist in the distance covered everything and so she could not see what was there. Loki came to stand beside her, and they were quiet for a moment. There was something that Darcy wanted to ask him, but she was afraid. She didn't want the answer, yet, though she feared that she already knew what it would be; the look in his eyes told her. A cluster of heavy, aching worry formed around her heart, strangling its rhythm. As if in response to this, the sky began to cloud over, the brightness diminishing ever so slightly. Loki frowned. Behind him, shadows began to slide back into the trees, and he could almost hear the chattering, ghostly whispers and laughter once again.

They were at an equinox, it seemed. Light and darkness equally opposed in power for the time. The scale could easily be tipped one way or the other. And it was up to them.

Now that the Dreaming had woken and was responding to them, to their song, they needed to be careful what they thought. Something in the shadows that still lingered in the wood behind them seemed to call to Darcy, urging her closer. She turned away from the water and headed back up the hill and into the forest again, under the canopy of trees, creeping closer to the large yew with its enormous eye. There, in the ground by its thick roots, she noticed something that she hadn't seen before. It was a small doorway, buried in the earth. As she wondered where it led, a sound crawled out of the bark of the tree. _You know the way underground. You know the secret ways. You were supposed to be trapped there, too. _The voice was light, yet raspy, strangely cajoling. _Everything connects. You are not lost. Use the Well to force your way back into the realms. Leave this place._

''Darcy!'' Loki called, as he hurried over to where she was standing, staring at the ground. He frowned at the tree in front of them, disliking the way it had suddenly seemed to grow more looming, its ever-watchful eye containing a disturbing intelligence. ''What are you doing?''

''I can take us back,'' she said, turning to him with a strange look on her face. Her eyes briefly flashed obsidian and Loki's heart stuttered a little as his eyes narrowed. Something about this was...wrong. He felt a warning chill go up his spine.

Darcy could now see the places where it all connected, throughout time and reality, the physical and the otherworldly. The Dreaming was the final crossroads. It would take a good deal of power, but with the Well's help, returning to the physical world would be possible. They would have to claw along the edges of the void, through the magical cells where the beings had once been trapped, and then back into Asgard. She had been able to control the Well before if only for a few minutes, she was sure that she could do it again. After all, wasn't she owed at least this much, for allowing the ancient presence to use her body as a channel whenever it liked? As if in response to this thought, Darcy felt that familiar energy sweep over her, beginning at her toes. Then it seemed to pull back, swirl around her from the outside of her body, rather than from within. It paused, waiting. And then the vision came, as the Well gave Loki and Darcy a choice. It flashed before both of their eyes, what the consequences of those actions would be. At first, it was rather pleasant and ordinary as it began to play out all around them, as if they were immersed in it, watching. Nothing appeared to be wrong. They were back in New York, surrounded by their friends.

_''That woman was just trying to give us a compliment, really, you didn't have to treat her like she was Hitler.'' Darcy rolled her eyes at Loki as she worked at getting Avi out of her stroller. _

_''What happened?'' Tony Stark asked, an amused look on his face._

_Darcy sighed. ''We stopped in the park and this older lady started talking to us, you know, just chatting like, 'oh how old is your little girl, blah blah, she's so pretty,' and then she mentioned that she organizes kiddie beauty pageants and asked if we would ever consider entering Avi. Then Loki just laid into her until she looked like she was on the verge of suicide.''_

_The god shrugged. ''I simply told her that what she does is grotesque and immoral and should be outlawed.''_

_''We watched one episode of 'Toddlers and Tiaras','' Darcy explained, rolling her eyes. ''Apparently child beauty pageants don't exist anywhere else in the universe. Literally nowhere.''_

_''With good reason,'' he said firmly._

_Biting back a laugh, Tony handed them an elegantly wrapped present. ''Pepper got you this, too.'' Darcy accepted the gift, though she worried. Pepper Potts tended to get them some rather...expensive and borderline impractical gifts for Avi. While Tony was distracted with doing something, she opened it and groaned inwardly._

_''What in the seven hells am I supposed to do with a Prada diaper bag?'' she whispered to Loki._

_''Seven hells?'' he repeated._

_''Game of Thrones.''_

_''Oh.'' He smiled. ''I like that one. Dragons and sex and death everywhere, it's wonderful.''_

_She threw the diaper bag at him._

_''Hey Tony, would you mind watching Avi for a little while?''_ _Darcy asked the billionaire as he reappeared._

_''Not at all,'' he replied, scooping the child up into his arms. She squealed with delight._

_''Oh, and not that we don't appreciate it, but can you maybe...tell Pepper not to buy quite so much...Prada and Dolce and Gabbana stuff for Avi. I mean, I totally appreciate the gesture, it's just that it's so un-''_

_''Say no more, I completely understand,'' Tony smiled and held up his hand. ''She just gets excited.''_

_''Come on, peanut,'' he said to Avalon, ''Let's go take stuff apart and put it back together.''_

All of this was seeming very innocuous and happy, amusing even, but then the next scene spun into their vision and the tone abruptly changed.

_Avi was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, playing with a tablet. _

_''Damn and blast,'' the little girl muttered as she sighed and tapped at the screen. ''Where did you learn to talk like that?'' Darcy asked, trying not to laugh._

_''From Daddy. He says it all the time when he's angry.''_

_''Hmmm, we might have to talk about that,'' she muttered, as she poured herself some more coffee._

_''There was a man in my dreams last night,'' Avi said matter of factly to her mother, looking up at her with large, luminous green-blue eyes._

_Darcy set down her cup of coffee and got onto the floor beside the child. ''What man, honey?''_

_''He comes out of the shadows. I think he lives in the trees.''_

_Her blood ran icy, her heartbeat stammered and staggered. ''Did he say anything to you?'' She moved closer to her daughter. ''He doesn't say anything,'' Avalon replied with a shake of her head. ''But he sings a song.''_

_No, no, please god no. ''What song, baby?'' Her voice shook._

_Avi started to hum. ''Oh dear, what can the matter be, dear, dear, what can the matter be, Johnny's so long at the fair.'' Then she stopped. ''I don't like the song, Mommy,'' she said, and then went back to playing. With shaking hands, Darcy picked up her phone and called Loki, frantically explaining what had happened._

_''I thought he was trapped. I thought it was over!''_

_He tried to calm her, though inwardly he was screaming at the news he had just been given. ''We knew this might happen. We did. We're just going to have to handle it, is all.''_

Darcy blinked, hot tears on her face. Having a vision inside a dream wasn't something that she was ever going to get used to. The images and sounds felt so staggeringly real...because they were. They were seeing what would be, even if they were able to leave. Without his dark magic being undone, Reckoner would endure, weakened and trapped but not defeated. He would slowly gather strength again and break free, repair and rebuild his Palace. And then...in bright, vivid technicolor too horrible to describe, Darcy and Loki were shown the true, final consequence of their return: he would come after Avi, would not stop until she was his, giving him the power that he needed for his new reactor. He wouldn't even need to collect any more souls, if he had her. They would try to stop him, and they would fail. The Reckoner would kill them both, in one fell swoop, and then take their daughter. Darcy knew that she couldn't let that happen.

''I want to be selfish,'' she cried, as the awful vision dissolved. Her stomach ached so badly that she was afraid she might vomit. ''I want to take the easy way out, just so I can hold her one more time! It isn't fair! I don't want to leave her! I'm not ready to leave her!''

''We have not left her!'' Loki said insistently, taking Darcy by the shoulders. ''We have _not_. Here, we can watch over her and keep her safe better than we could out there. You saw what would happen if we challenge this, if we force out way back into the world. We've already altered the universe too much with our...reappearances. Can you imagine the chaos that would follow if we did this?'' His voice wavered and shook ever so slightly.

She stood still for a moment, feeling weak and frayed. ''I never thought that you would be the one to talk me out of breaking the laws of nature, but you're right,'' she said to Loki. ''I just don't want to accept it. But I can't become like him, just twisting everything to serve my own desires.'' A tear slipped down Darcy's cheek and her voice dropped until it was scarcely more than a whisper. ''I just wanted to hold her again. I don't want to lose her.''

''We will not lose her,'' he told her for the second time, forcing himself to be as calm as he could, though he felt torn down the centre. The visions that the Well had given them only confirmed Loki's worst fears. ''_If_ we went back, we would. If we stay, if we finish the song, all the doors will close for good, all the tears in the Wyrd will heal, and nothing like this will _ever_ happen again. We _are_ chaos. That has been proven before.'' His hands came up and rested against Darcy's face, holding her gently as he continued. ''I've long suspected that part of the reason that the Reckoner was able to regain his strength and bring about his Restoration after so much time was because we made so many alterations to the fabric of the universe with everything we've done. Yes, we destroyed the Norns, and that needed to happen, but who knows how far reaching the consequences of those actions were? Just by existing together, we've created a kind of ripple effect throughout time and space. You saw it in Asgard, _all_ of the Nine Realms are falling into disorder. As long as we are alive on Midgard or any of the other worlds, it will not stop. The madness will continue, darker and darker each time. We've upset too many balances. At least this way, we'll be free. We won't be anyone's prisoners. This world...it will be ours. Yours and mine.''

Darcy looked at him through tear-veiled blue eyes. She knew immediately that what he was saying was true, she could feel it inside her bones, making her entire skeleton ache. ''What if we just become like the lonely ghosts?'' she asked, glancing around at the trees, their branches hovering in wait. ''What if we start missing everyone too much and get bitter and resentful and power-hungry? What if the song changes?''

''That is the risk that we're going to have to take. But for the record, I don't think that will happen.'' Yet even as Loki spoke, he received a sudden premonition, another potential outcome. It flooded into his mind with a loud, bright warning chime.

_ Power lit up both of their faces as they sat side by side on thrones of black onyx, matching the darkness that filled their eyes. Angry and vengeful from being cut off from their home and their daughter, he and Darcy absorbed the power of the Well and became stronger and more terrible than the Reckoner, more than the Norns. Together, they ruled the Nine Worlds from their dark dream kingdom, controlling the Wyrd, the fates of all creatures in the palms of their hands. The entire universe bowed before them. The giant tree had grown even taller and more imposing, its branches like a crown of antlers, its huge eye ever open and unblinking. _

As he saw this, a deep sadness swept through Loki, leaving him feeling cold and heavy. This sadness was followed by the realization that at the moment when all the power he'd ever wanted and more was right there for the taking, he didn't want it. Not any more. He just wanted Darcy, wanted their little girl to be safe, whether they could be with her or not. Avalon wouldn't ever want to see her parents become monsters like that. They owed it to her to be better. And so, they only had one choice. They'd probably only ever had one choice.

Not knowing what else to do, Loki laughed, laughed until he was doubled over and his head was in his hands and then he was crying.

* * *

><p><strong>The Walters Estate<strong>

Tentatively, the Black Widow tested her footing as she peered down into the dim, ancient stairwell that led underground, beneath the tree. The stairs held, and so she took a deep breath and followed them down. The air was surprisingly cool against her skin as she descended. Her feet hit the ground at the bottom, connecting with a stone floor. There was light, a pale blue-white electrical glow that allowed her to see that she was in a small chamber filled with equipment. Most of the light was being emitted from a large cylindrical structure a few feet away. Frowning, the redhead moved closer to get a better look. A hand flew to her mouth once she realised what she had stumbled upon.

The little girl inside the softly glowing tank looked as if she were merely sleeping. Her expression was peaceful, doll-like. ''Oh my god,'' Natasha whispered, looking around at the softly whirring machines that were keeping her in limbo. The whole space was like a tomb, utterly still and quiet.

Looking at that little girl, something seemed to break and then reassemble itself inside of her. Thankful that there was nobody around to see, the assassin let tears come to her eyes. She put her hand against the glass, saw the faint image of her own tearful reflection there. ''It's ok,'' she found herself whispering. To herself. To Anna-Lily. To all of them. ''It's ok. Everything's alright, now.'' She didn't want to leave her there, though she knew she needed to, at least for a minute.

Natasha waited until she had ascended the staircase and was outside in the now-night air before placing the call. She felt like it would be wrong to disturb the space any further. ''I need you to send a special medical team, ASAP,'' she said, her voice sounding unlike itself, blank and airy and far away. ''I found Anna-Lily.''

* * *

><p>''I didn't think that it would end this way,'' Darcy confessed. ''I thought...well, I knew that there was a chance that we could die, or get lost...but this...this is different. I don't know if its better or worse!'' She was sitting on the ground, with Loki beside her. They both looked pale and tired. ''So...this is it, huh? We finish the song, really finish it, the damage is reversed, all the doors close forever and ever, and then...''<p>

''Then we stay here,'' he said in a soft, haunted, hollow voice that she'd rarely heard him use. The sound was grey, like smoke hanging in the air. ''Sacred ground and a final sacrifice, remember?''

'' 'Sacred ground and a final sacrifice'...wasn't that a White Stripes song?'' Darcy joked flatly, trying to inject any amount of humour into the situation, even though nothing was funny at all.

Loki tried at a smile, for her benefit, but it looked more like a grimace. He continued, ''This place is eternal, beyond death. And now, so are we. It makes sense, in a way.'' He stared off onto the horizon. All attempts at humour forgotten, a tear spilled down Darcy's cheek as she remembered the soul-bonding vows that they had made in Paris. She held up her hand, looked at the scar across her palm. ''It is timeless, it is deathless, it is eternal,'' she repeated.

Loki hung his head for a moment. Then he raised it and said, ''I am so sorry that I did this to you.''

Darcy frowned and rested her hand on the back of his neck, feeling his blood thudding and rushing under her fingertips. ''What do you mean?''

''I knew...back when I first created the connection between our minds, I knew that there was a very great chance that it would be permanent. But I did it anyway, and I let you believe that there would be a chance to unlink. I _did_ deceive you, and I did it for my own selfish reasons. I knew it, the Norns knew it, even Retnick knew it. I did it because...I wanted you.'' His voice was low, rough and pained.

''I only ever wanted you, I think,'' he continued, locking eyes with Darcy. ''You are a better drug than all the power in the world. Everything you gave to me...you brought me back to myself, saw something worthwhile there. I was intoxicated by you, by your...brightness, your goodness. I got just a taste of that, and I couldn't live without it. I couldn't live without you. I'm no better than the Reckoner. I...stole you. I forced you to change, exposed you to a world that you shouldn't have had to face, powers that you shouldn't have had to confront. And it is because of this, because of my selfishness, that we are left with this last choice. Selene was right, use of magic never comes without consequences.'' He sighed, then laughed mirthlessly; the sound was a bitter scraping, like sandpaper. ''Look at us, Loki and Sigyn, trapped after all.''

''Well, at least there's no snake,'' she said, with a lopsided half-grin. ''I was the one who said yes,'' Darcy told him matter of factly. ''I let you in. You didn't...take my mind by force, I joined myself to you, too. That was _my_ decision.''

''Would you still have let me do it?'' Loki asked, the words catching and sticking in his throat. He swallowed around them with some difficulty. ''If you had known then that it would be...forever, would you have allowed me to link our minds?''

''Yes,'' she answered. ''I think that you were the thing that I always wanted, too. There was something missing in my life, I could feel it. I was...wandering, trying to find a purpose, this thing that was out of reach. And then I found you. Or, we found each other. Maybe...this is the way it was always meant to be. We both chose this,'' Darcy added. ''It wasn't just you. I was already in love with you too, somehow. All the warnings in the world couldn't dissuade me. And now, we're here, and we need to face the consequences of the choices that we made. It hurts, it does, but I'm comforted by the fact that the best part of you and me is still in the world and protected. We've both been a little selfish, and now is our time to be selfless. Maybe we can rest now.''

''Maybe,'' he said. They leaned against each other and stared around at their new world, which waited patiently for the end of the song.


	36. Chapter 36

**Sorry for the late update (again) Real life has been kicking me in the ass the past few months. But we've almost reached the end of the story! There is only one more chapter left to go after this one. What a ride! I love all you guys, please let me know what you think! :)**

* * *

><p><em>My soul would sing of metamorphoses<em>

_But since, oh gods, you were the source of these_

_bodies becoming other bodies, breathe_

_your breath into my book of changes: may_

_the song I sing be seamless as its way_

_weaves from the world's beginning to our day_

**-Ovid, _Metamorphoses_**

**Norway**

''How do you think they're doing?'' Jane asked the old woman as she paced the floor, rocking Avi in her arms. The little girl seemed to be taking to her, she cuddled close instantly against the scientist and fell asleep.

Heid was sitting by the window, looking meditatively out and up at the sky. Her voice was quiet as she answered, ''The further they go, the more they'll get lost. Ego will dissolve, slowly. The light will pull them and they won't come back.'' She swallowed, looking pale and blank, like a cold windowpane in January. ''Because nothing will matter anymore, everything will fall away.'' Then she added, as the flutter of a brief, sad smile passed over her face. ''And they will know. They will finally understand what they need to do.''

* * *

><p>It was quiet. There was only the rustling of the tree branches and the slow lapping of the water. Darcy looked on into the distance, tried to see across the vast lake but it was still shrouded in mist, and she still hadn't any idea what was on the other side. She supposed that there was plenty of time to find out. She and Loki sat beside one another on the ground, her head resting on his shoulder. Who knew how much time had passed. If time even existed where they were now. It didn't seem to be measurable in any way, other than the slightly changing colour of the sky. Something felt like it was ending, swallowed up. Darcy reached over and threaded her fingers through Loki's.<p>

''Now you don't have to wander through any more cemeteries,'' he said, thinking back to their conversation in Paris, before they had ever left. ''I never liked the thought of you there by yourself, all that worry in your mind, weighing you down.''

''I was never by myself, though, really, remember?'' she said, managing a smile. ''You're always with me.''

He sighed. ''I just wish that you would have been more willing to share your fears. You've had to keep so much locked away inside, where even I couldn't reach. And I don't want that. I want you to tell me everything. Share the ghosts, don't face them alone.''

''I think that the ghosts are leaving now,'' she told him.

They waited until they were sure, until all of the doubt had fallen away and only a deep resolve remained. The air had hushed itself, the trees around them were still. It wasn't a bad place to stay, Darcy thought to herself as she looked around. The Dreaming went on forever, a limitless space, a country without borders or boundaries. They always did say to be careful what you wished for. Once, Darcy would have given anything to find herself alone with Loki in a place like this, a safe place where nobody could touch them or bother them, a timeless room where they could lay undisturbed in each other's arms. And now they had that, at last. But it had come with a cost.

''Are you ready?'' Loki asked. Darcy nodded.

And so, they stood together and began their song. This time, they needed no rhythm, no stones or drumming, just their heartbeats and their voices, melding as one. The sound was clearer than before, stronger. It rose up through the air, became part of the ground, the water. It slipped inside the dark trapdoor like a beam of light, weaving through, dissolving the darkness there as it went. The song merged with the ancient, vast power of the Well and imploded those secret passageways, creating a chain reaction that combined with the still-overloading reactor in the Palace of Souls. This formed a tunnel-like vortex as it un-made all of the horror—and its maker along with it. Inside his cell in Asgard, the Reckoner could only scream and howl, as he was swallowed up by that light, that sound, as it pulled him apart, leaving no trace.

They sang with all the beauty, all the sorrow and love in their hearts, the pain and the hope: all of it became the song that tore down the darkness, that reversed the damage, that gave life where before there had been death and sickness. It spread, twined through everything and altered it at it's core, rebuilding it.

And then, at last, when the final note was sung, the loop was closed and there was peace. The Palace and the tunnels imploded in upon themselves until the Void swallowed them all, until every door was closed.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Something was different in the air, Steve noted, he could feel it all along his skin, like an electrical charge. He didn't seem to be the only one, either. Captain America watched as the strange white-haired woman that he had found seemed to be suddenly overtaken by an acute fit of restlessness, like an animal sensing an earthquake. She broke away from Steve and ran, darting into one of the buildings. ''Wait!'' he called, sprinting after her. For such a fragile, tiny thing, she was definitely fast, racing up the stairwell, floor after floor, beset upon by a freakish jolt of energy. Even the Captain was panting when they reached the roof. Olivia was standing still now, just staring and waiting. They weren't alone there, Steve saw, an infected woman with long dark hair was also poised, watching, her body tensed. Her ears seemed perked, as if listening for something. He saw that the look on her face was almost frightened.

And that was when everything changed. A brief shockwave of chaos reverberated all throughout the Nine Worlds as a balance was restored. All of the infected stood completely still at first. Then they began to scream, or rather, the lonely ghosts began to scream as they were wrenched from the human Vessels that they had stolen. Some had an easier time of it than others, those in the earlier stages simply looked as though a layer was being peeled from them, then they collapsed to the ground, tired and pale, malnourished and disoriented, leaving a sea of sickly people covering the city.

The dark haired woman, formerly known as Penelope, let out a screech and clutched at her face. She looked like she was burning, being immolated from the inside out. ''No!'' she screamed. ''No! Don't take me from her!'' With one final shriek she fell to the ground, crumpling like a rag doll as the Captain saw something tear away from her body, appearing as a dark cloud for a brief moment before disappearing. Not knowing what else to do, overwhelmed with the sudden crushing emptiness inside of herself, the tall woman scrambled to her feet and began to run. Steve tried to catch her while she was in motion but he was too far. She didn't even hesitate once, not even as her body went clean over the edge of the roof and she plummeted fifteen stories to the pavement below.

* * *

><p>It fell quiet after that. A stillness settled across everything like an early morning mist. Already Darcy could feel this world sealing itself off, forming a barrier. The river still flowed, but it was diverted around the place where they were. She and Loki existed now on an island of their own, it seemed. A great sense of relief flooded through her body and mind as the Well left her for good and found its own home: it became a physical place, a small, impossibly deep pond surrounded by rocks. The energy collected there, in that place, and occassionally spilled outwards, channelled naturally to where it needed to go. It could show them things, they could peer into the water and receive visions, glimpses of the Nine worlds. It wasn't the only way to see, of course, but it offered the clearest picture.<p>

''How do you feel?'' Loki asked.

''Free,'' she replied.

As she looked down at the ripples in the Well, first she saw her own reflection and then it changed. Scenes from her life, playing one after another, happy times. One in particular now spread itself across the water and stayed.

There it was, Darcy could see it, the moment from a time that was now so long ago and far away yet not: a foreign country, the city square shining in the sunlight. She could recall the weight of Loki's arm across her shoulder, feel the smile spread across her lips, heard the click of the camera. Blink. _This is the moment. Frozen in time. This is what she will remember of us. We look young, and happy._ The vision passed gently.

She raised her head to catch a glimpse of someone up ahead by the edge of the lake, walking towards her, almost like a mirage. Then she drew closer, and Darcy could see her face. It was almost identical to her own, except for the eyes. Heavy and sorrowful, yet determined. It was remarkable, how they looked so alike and yet so different.

''It's you,'' Darcy whispered.

''So it is. An eternal echo,'' Sigyn said, the sad smile still draped over her face like a sheet. ''You are me. The story still happened, still goes on, regardless of how. Your eternal minute still echoes. Your sacrifice was not forgotten.''

Lines, dream tracks, thinning the barriers, the chaos, the dawn, the waking. A symphony. Threads weaving together. Darcy closed her eyes and when she opened them, Sigyn was gone, but in her place was another very familiar figure.

''_You_,'' she breathed, staring at Lugh Retnick. She blinked, then said, ''You took the reversal spell.'' She had suddenly realized this. So many of the missing pieces were now coming back together, creating a large picture that had been hidden before. He nodded.

''I didn't want you to get ahead of yourselves, to go doing something stupid and rash,'' Lugh admitted. ''You both had so much power and ability, but so little patience. If something looks too good to be true, then it usually is. That book...'' he shook his head.''It contained a thousand recipes for disaster and that was the worst one. You finally came to realize that to read is not to understand. You have to feel it, to really know. You have to mean it. It only hurts when it's real. That's the only time it matters. That's where the magick is, in the feeling. In the desire.''

''You...saved us.'' She could barely believe it.

He shrugged as if it were irrelevant. ''I once told you that you appealed to what was left of my humanity, and that was true. You were such...a rare thing. Both so damaged, yet so innocently and deeply in love, as if you were created solely for each other, to fit together to form a better being. It was beautiful, I must admit. And it made an old man begin to think. It was the day that you both arrived that I started to feel...the weight of my age for the first time. And it made me see everything differently; sound, smell, everything was changed and it was covered in shadows. A song...or the way that light hits the top of the water just so. Late afternoon. You know what I mean.''

''Yes,'' she told him. Tears ran down her face and across her lips and when she opened her mouth to speak she tasted salt and memory. ''I know what you mean.''

* * *

><p><strong>The Walters Estate, England<strong>

The medical team arrived to take care of Anna-Lily. They brought with them reports that the infected in London, New York, and other parts of the world had suddenly begun to recover. They were all in dire need of medical attention, and the hospitals were once again growing overwhelmed, but they were regaining coherency, and no longer appearing possessed. ''There's no next of kin, no documentation as to what to do. It's your call, Ma'am,'' one of them said after they had spent several minutes evaluating the strange scene and taking photographs.

''What are our options?'' asked Natasha, though she already knew.

The agent looked somewhat haunted and worn as he expained, ''We can either keep her in the tank...technically she'll still be alive. Or...we can shut it down. Let her...''

''—Rest,'' the Black Widow finished. ''She's been sleeping for too long. She needs to rest.'' They nodded back at her in solemn agreement. ''We'll make the arrangements, then.''

''Wait,'' she said, and one of them turned back to her. ''Her father—his body is in cold storage, in the sub-basements, back at headquarters. They should be given a proper burial. He's been waiting long enough to be with her again.''

''Understood, ma'am,'' the agent said with a nod and then turned away again, back to the machines. Natasha ascended the old staircase, breathed the now-night air and let out a rough cough of laughter, then another, until she was nearly dizzy and there were tears burning in her eyes. The redhead took a moment to compose herself, leaned against the large tree and bent her head. The sound of her phone ringing jolted her sharply back, and she answered it.

Natasha's brow furrowed deeply as she listened to Bruce's voice on the other end. ''What do you mean you _lost _them?'' She listened another moment and then rubbed her forehead. ''All right. I'm on my way.''

Almost just as she had hung up with him the phone rang again, and her heart felt strange when she looked at the number. ''Tony? What's going on?''

''Andrews is awake. He's asking for you.''

* * *

><p>''Tell me about the letter,'' Loki said knowingly. ''The one that the old man gave you. No sense in keeping secrets anymore, love.''<p>

Traces of the song still carried over everything, echoing each time the wind blew. Even if they leaned their heads down close to the ground they could hear it, covering and protecting. The Dreaming was brighter now. And the trees were alive with leaves and blossoms. Some even had those pink cherry blossoms that Darcy had wanted to walk beneath so much.

''Ethan wrote it to Helen. Joe didn't send that box to her,'' Darcy explained to him. ''He was already dead. Ethan sent it to her. He had no way of knowing what she was going to do. He was trying to protect her, that's the tragedy of it.'' Shaking her head, she continued, ''The second letter was supposed to explain that Joe had been killed, though not necessarily how...it was supposed to explain a lot of things, I think,'' she smiled sadly. ''He loved her so much. She never got to know. The letter was never sent. And so, she died believing that she'd been abandoned and forgotten.''

''Love makes you behave irrationally,'' Loki mused. ''It also has a strange tendency to make you want to paint.'' He gave a shrug of his shoulders. ''Such a strange story we found ourselves in the middle of. And we never did get to meet Joe Haven, did we?''

She shrugged. ''I don't suppose that there was much to him. Like I said before, he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, or some other hapless Shakespearean character.'' Darcy sighed and her head drooped.

''What is it?'' he asked, studying the abrupt sadness on her face.

''I just hope that Cloud is ok,'' she replied, gazing up at him now, her eyes watery. ''She deserves a chance at life.''

Loki smiled, the look strangely knowing. ''I think that she'll be just fine.''

They stood in quiet contemplation, a few blossoms from one of the trees fluttered down around them like pink confetti.

''I think that all of the ghosts are finally gone,'' said Darcy, and she stared out at the water again.


	37. Chapter 37

**Ok, guys, here it is: the final chapter of this long, long saga. Thank you so much to everyone who read, reviewed, and gave me such wonderful support and kind words through this endeavour spanning over two years. I am much changed from it, for the better. I am so glad that you were along for the ride, it means the world to me, especially you guys who have been with me from the beginning (you know who you are! :) ) As always, I love you all and think you are wonderful.**

* * *

><p><em>People tell me it's a sin<em>

_To know and feel too much within_

_I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring_

_She was born in spring, but I was born too late_

_Blame it on a simple twist of fate_

**-Bob Dylan**

''I don't think that anything really ends,'' Darcy said with a smile as she stared out across the water. She could finally see more clearly through the swirling mists, which, when parted, like the well could give her glimpses of other worlds.

They could watch over everything that was happening on Midgard, or Asgard. They could see all of the realms from where they stood now, the spaces in between as well. ''It looks different, like a darkness has been peeled back,'' she remarked. ''The color of everything has changed.''

''We're not bad artists, are we?'' Loki asked, surveying the landscape. He was smiling too.

She shook her head. ''Not bad at all.''

The Palace of Souls had imploded upon itself and left no trace, but there _was_ a lone survivor found in the woods, a thin girl with dark hair. She was comatose when found, but a few days later she awoke, blinking her grey eyes as if she'd just come out of a remarkable dream. Peering through the mists, Darcy barely recognized the young woman whose visage appeared there. There was color in her face, which was no longer obscured by jagged locks of hair, it had been cut and styled softly. There were, amazingly, no scars on her arms. When she smiled, her teeth were straight and white. Her gray eyes were bright and deep. She was absolutely lovely. ''Is it really her?'' asked Darcy in disbelief. ''She's...she's beautiful. How?''

''As within, so without'' he replied with a smile. ''And I'll always have a few tricks up my sleeve. Just so you know. I am a god, after all.'' She laughed and grabbed playfully onto his arm, feeling so much lighter than she had in a very long time.

**New York City, 24 Hours Later**

Everyone was now back and gathered together at SHIELD, including the group from Norway. Though there was a definite sense of relief now that the infection had 'miraculously' reversed itself, there was still a palpable tension. Particularly because Loki and Darcy were still missing. After hearing the details, Natasha knew with a sinking heart that they would not be coming back, despite how hard Bruce was insisting that they keep looking and waiting. ''Look _where_?'' Natasha asked him. ''They're in a place you can't see, can't reach.'' Somehow, she just knew it deep inside, though it pained her to admit it. They had been lost once before and she had kept her promise and found them. But not this time. This time, she had to let them go. The Black Widow smiled as she realised how soft she'd gotten over the past year and a half because of Loki and Darcy. They were stubborn, and infuriating, but she was proud to think of them as her friends. The way that the assassin looked at the world was now fundamentally altered because of them, and she was both annoyed and grateful for this. But mostly grateful. ''_I'm really gonna miss you guys_,'' she thought to herself.

She was proved right as that one very big question in particular was soon answered with the arrival of a visitor from Asgard, the Queen. It seemed that Frigga was well-aware of what was going on, because when she arrived she had a look on her face that was both pleased and deeply sad at the same time. With a small bow, Selene handed Avi to the goddess, who gently rocked her granddaughter for a few minutes. Avalon seemed very happy to see her, she babbled and smiled. ''You are going to grow up to be very special,'' she whispered to the little girl as she kissed her on the head. Then she walked over to Jane, who was standing very nervously in the doorway. ''Come over here, dear,'' said Frigga, motioning her forward. ''We're going to need to make some plans regarding the future of this little one, make certain that she's well-cared for.''

Jane wrung her hands, blinked back tears. ''But Loki and Darcy-'' she started.

''They aren't coming back. Not this time.'' Frigga shook her head as she handed Avi to Jane. ''You made a promise, if I recall,'' she said.

''I didn't want it to be like this!'' protested the scientist as she took the baby into her arms. They were both about to cry, it seemed. The Queen shook her head again gently. ''We don't always get to decide. But you have a responsibility now, to this child and to her parents. She belongs to both Asgard and Midgard. Actually, she belongs to many worlds, but we will both be stepping in to raise her. She will have a very big family, I think.''

Another familiar face soon appeared, as Nicholas Fury returned from wherever he had been. He stood and waited politely until Frigga had departed, and then he approached the Black Widow, who clenched her fists in exasperation upon seeing him.

''The _fuck_?'' was all she said, glaring sharply. He smiled. ''I knew you wouldn't back down.'' At her outraged confusion, he explained, ''SHIELD didn't have a chance. Sheer force of might, weapons—those wouldn't have worked. As an organization we were, in a sense, powerless. But_ you_ weren't. I can read people very well, too.''

Natasha opened her mouth and then closed it again. She rubbed her forehead tiredly, trying to process the information. ''So this was all, what, some sick kind of test?'' she asked, once she could speak.

''Not at all,'' Fury corrected. ''It was a hunch. And when I get those,'' he said with another wry look, ''they're usually right.'' He patted her on the shoulder, and then walked away down the hall.

''This fucking place,'' muttered Natasha, heaving a sigh. She rested her head against the wall for a moment and then raised it when she heard the sound of footsteps. It was Steve. His voice was soft when he said, ''Can I show you something?'' The assassin nodded and silently followed him downstairs to one of the sealed evidence rooms on the sub-basement levels. ''I can't explain what happened,'' he said softly. ''I've never seen anything like it.'' The Captain sounded haunted as he opened the door. ''Me either,'' said Natasha.

''I found your missing patient, Olivia,'' Steve added as they entered the room. ''But she's...'' he gestured to the bag laying on one of the examination tables and then slowly slid down the zipper. Inside was the body of an ancient woman, so old that she was nearly dust. It had begun not long after the infected began to recover, she aged an alarming amount in a short span of time and there was nothing that could be done about it. It was simply the natural order, an order that had been unnaturally suppressed.

''She's resting now,'' Natasha said. ''They're all resting now.''

* * *

><p>To Darcy, Loki was now more beautiful and more powerful than he'd ever been. The fury, the rage that had always been living under the surface had calmed. Something long-fractured had finally healed. They walked together into the grove of trees. She'd created the place from a dream that she'd had some time ago, her hands had been bound over her head, a voluptuous maiden being taken by a monster and loving every minute of it. The long soft garment that she wore slid from her shoulders and fluttered to the ground. Loki's form changed, she rested a hand against him, felt the cold skin beneath her fingers, marvelling once again at the beautiful colour, the fascinating texture. ''I love you,'' she told him, looking deeply into his eyes. ''This way, every way.''<p>

He smiled and bent his mouth to kiss her, feeling her gasp and tremble delightedly at the cold as he lowered them both to the ground. Darcy leaned back and pressed her body into the soft grass, letting him take her, claim her again and again out beneath the trees and open sky, the two of them alone and undisturbed inside this dream with nothing but the sound of the wind rushing over the leaves, the distant murmur of water, and the faint, faint echoes of a song.

They had changed the flow of the water, once the song was done. There would be no chance of the Wyrd being corrupted again. Now, only the dreamers would decide. Now, the two of them were Watchers, from their corner of a vast eternity. They were not lonely. They could reach out in dreams and visions to say hello. Darcy had feared that with this would come bitterness, but no, only peace.

Darcy herself had a dream. They dreamed differently there, with waking eyes, as visions came falling down like curtains or snow. She saw Helen and Ethan. They met in a field, walking slowly towards each other. They stopped, inches away, and regarded each other with a quiet look that Darcy couldn't quite describe, a look full of longing and shadows that brought tears springing into her vision. In his hand, Ethan was holding a marigold. Helen smiled.

And then she dreamed that she walked among headstones in a graveyard, but she was not filled with sadness. She looked down at the two graves. ''Lugh Retnick,'' read the first. Beside it was ''Anna-Lily Retnick.'' Darcy smiled and kept walking.

* * *

><p>Cloud Marlowe never forgot the two mysterious people who she'd met at Retnick's house, who had been so nice to her. Once she woke from her coma and saw herself in the mirror, she burst into tears at how pretty she was, and knew, somehow <em>knew<em>, who had been responsible for this miracle. She found a home as well, she was taken in by Heid, Selene, and Prudence, who helped her continue her studies of magic, (though she already knew a great deal).

''They were real, I know they were,'' Cloud said one day as she looked out the window into the backyard, where they were preparing for the first harvest festival. ''They saved me. They saved all of us. They were wonderful, and beautiful, and they shouldn't ever be forgotten.''

''They won't be,'' Heid assured her.

Just to be sure, every so often, Cloud lit a candle and sat in quiet thought, reaching out with her mind and seeking her friends, who she still called ''William and Lucy'.

* * *

><p>They liked seasons, and so they decided that they should have some in the Dreaming. Loki smiled deeply. Darcy could feel it too, a soft and deep connection, close and far-away at the same time. ''What is that?'' she asked.<p>

''A prayer,'' he answered.

* * *

><p>''How is she?'' Darcy asked Loki, who was now peering down into the Well, looking at Avalon.<p>

''She's perfect,'' he replied with a proud smile.

Avi looked exactly like a blending of the both of them, with the pale skin and sculpted cheekbones of her father, and her mother's wide eyes and full lips. She was talented, too, but they'd already known that. She was telekinetic, could manipulate energy. She had an IQ so high that it couldn't be measured by any known test, and Bruce had given up trying to figure her out. She had become an ambassador of sorts, fostering diplomacy between the worlds as the times changed and it became more and more necessary to do so. People listened to her. She was important.

They visited their daughter in dreams, and she came to be aware of their presence; even when she woke she could sometimes still feel phantom kisses on her forehead, the memory of being held in loving arms, sang to, soothed. When she was old enough, her aunt Jane sat her down and told her the whole long story of the two lovely people in the photograph that had sat beside her bed for as long as she could remember, and she was proud. She had always known that they were special, they had an aura of magic about them, like a king and queen in a fairy tale.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

**A very, very long time later**

History would call the darkness that had befallen the earth under the Reckoner the time of the next great plague, they looked back on it with a shudder, the way they looked at the Black Death in Europe all those centuries before. The world had been altered at its very core, reality was different.

Now, one autumn day, the newly renovated art museum was featuring several new collections that had been acquired, and a crowd of people milled through to see the works.

''She appears in several paintings from around the same time period, by the same artist, yet her identity remains unknown,'' the tour guide explained, gesturing. ''She's simply referred to as 'The Goddess in Rapture,' because of the expression on her face and the slightly mythical quality of some of the works. Many of the paintings were discovered in an apartment in Paris that remained sealed off for more than half a century. The artist remains unknown.''

Standing toward the back of the crowd, one figure waited until the rest of the group had moved on to the next exhibit. Then she moved forward and approached the painting. She appeared to be only about twenty, though she was much older. she was an uncommonly beautiful young woman, with her long wavy black hair, full lips and soft pale skin. But perhaps her most striking feature was her eyes: they were almost iridescent, a shifting kaleidoscope of blue and green hues. She stood there for a long time, looking at the familiar faces in the painting, feeling a small sadness tugging at her heart. Then she heard footsteps behind her, turned to see a well-dressed young man walking towards her with a smile. He had dark hair and warm brown eyes. People always said that he looked just like his great-grandfather, the late Tony Stark. ''Hey, Avi,'' he greeted her.

''Hey Orion,'' she answered softly. They stood together in silence for a moment, looking up at the paintings. ''I've said it before and I'll say it again—your mom was a fox.''

Avi elbowed him in the side but she laughed. ''Yeah, she kinda was,'' the girl admitted.

''Do you miss them?'' he asked.

''Yes. I'll always miss them...but they're not really gone, you know? They're just not here.'' She smiled softly, thinking about the photograph that was framed and sitting next to her bed at the apartment that she and Orion Stark shared. Her aunt Jane had spoken fondly about Avi's mother and father, often with tears in her eyes. ''I like to imagine that they're walking together in some other world, under other stars. And I'll be with them again one day, somewhere far from here.''

Orion nodded and patted her on the shoulder. ''How about some shawarma, kid?'' he asked.

''Alright, but you're paying,'' she told him.

Loki and Darcy watched this, and smiled. If you could see them, they still looked young, as if frozen in a single moment in time. Together and in love.

And so, like many others, this story does not end but continues on the way it began: with a look, a meeting of eyes. Wheels turned behind the scenes again and again, prompted by some unknown force. Like a whisper, like a song that even the wind and the trees have forgotten.


End file.
